


Again and Again

by fluorophoring



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universes, Bottom Kozume Kenma, Bottom Kuroo Tetsurou, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, POV Kozume Kenma, Post-Time Skip, Yearning, in that order
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:35:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29385684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluorophoring/pseuds/fluorophoring
Summary: Kuroo’s hand reaches under the table to rest on Kenma’s thigh. It distracts Kenma completely. Kenma’s mind glazes over, the voices of Kuroo and Bokuto mixing hazily into the background of his thoughts. Kuroo’s thumb moves along Kenma’s leg, like he’s not even aware of the effect he has on Kenma. Kenmatsksto himself. He probably isn’t. TohisKenma, this isn't anything special. His Kenma always gets Kuroo’s touch and attention. Is it normal to be jealous of himself?Kenma has no idea how long he has here, how long he’ll get to bask in the warmth of Kuroo’s affection. He wants to take as much as he can, store it for when he’s back in his world. Let it keep him company there when he’s alone and cold and tired. He reaches down and curls his fingers around Kuroo’s hand.I want to keep him.(OR Kenma gets a glimpse of a universe slightly different than his own)
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 96
Kudos: 242
Collections: Recommended KuroKen Fics





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Some notes!
> 
> Though not explicit, this fic features neurodivergent Kenma and some of the difficulties he has while dealing with this. It is definitely a fluffy and s o f t fic but be aware that my nd experiences have definitely informed some of his story here!
> 
> If you're curious side ships present in the fic are: daisuga, bokuaka, kagehina though they don't play a huge role!
> 
> This fic is inspired by the 2000 movie "The Family Man" except I've never seen it and instead I should really say it's inspired by the drarry classic Turn by saras_girl 

_A 10-year-old Kenma lies on the grass, his Game Boy Advance raised above him as he plays. Beside him, Kuroo volleys a ball to himself, mumbling his every thought to a Kenma who pretends not to listen._

_Kuroo hits the ball poorly, rolling away from him. “Do you think we’ll still be friends when we’re old men?”_

_Kenma’s eyes stay on his game. “Are you still going to want to be my friend?”_

_“Duh.”_

_“Then I guess we’ll be friends,” Kenma agrees easily._

_“What about you – will you still want to be my friend?”_

_Kenma’s quiet when he answers. “I’ll always want to be your friend.”_

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Kozume Kenma: University Student, Stock Trader, Pro-gamer, YouTuber, Bouncing Ball Corp CEO.

Kozume Kenma: Utterly exhausted, constantly burnt-out, habitually overextending.

Kenma yawns, hitting export on his most recent YouTube video. He takes a long drink from his mug of coffee, leaning back in his desk chair. He tries to decide if it’s worth getting an hour or two of sleep or if he should just look over this quarter’s projections before his Bouncing Ball meeting in the morning.

He pulls out his phone; the time glares at him. 4:47 am. He turns his alarm on for 6:30 am and walks across the room to the sofa sitting at the side of the room. Pulling a blanket off the back of the couch, he closes his eyes and is almost immediately asleep. 

Kenma’s never been able to picture much of a future for himself. Not in a way he thinks is particularly depressing. Just, when he thinks about what his life will look like five, ten years ahead, it’s always a vague shape of continuing to go on. He’s always liked concrete goals more.

He thinks it’s why he gravitates toward games. Level up this way, win the boss fight that way. Obtainable, observable metrics of growth and success. How do you apply that to being an adult? You just live until – until what? You die?

So Kenma doesn’t make long term plans – or know what he’s aiming for. That probably explains why he so easily gets distracted by opportunity. He doesn’t want to think about the number of hyphens explaining what he does, what he is. It’s tiring to even count them.

The morning meeting with his small board of executives is as successful as expected. Things with Bouncing Ball are going well. Especially with Shouyou’s return to Japan and subsequent splash into the Japanese competitive volleyball scene.

He looks at his phone, scrolling through apps so he can order lunch for himself and his workers. Is it sad that the three most recent calls in his history are all food delivery services? He frowns. Below them is Shouyou’s number - he called him a few weeks ago. Then there’s Tora, who’d asked him if he wanted to go for drinks about a month back (he couldn’t; he had a stream scheduled), Akaashi asking his opinion on Ten Years Japan (he hasn’t had time to see it yet), and almost three months ago, Kuroo.

He opens his message history with Kuroo. It’s been depressingly sporadic in the last year and a bit. Kenma’s heart feels hollow at the thought. How does that happen? Is it just growing up? You just become too busy with school and work and life that friends are unavoidably more difficult to stay connected to?

His finger hovers over the call button. If he pressed it, though, what would he even say? _Hello, sorry it’s been 3 months. Every day is too tiring to even think about interacting with people._

The sentiment feels like concrete in his veins. Since when is being with Kuroo too tiring? It’s better to just stay away and not think about that.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

He’s the last in the office that night. Outside his room, the hallways and workspaces are dark. Light by light, employees leave for their respective homes. He should be done soon, just a few more emails to respond to, a few more outlines to sign off on.

He clicks open a web browser.

╔══════════════╗

YOU’VE WON

╚══════════════╝

Kenma squints at the screen. He hasn’t navigated from his homepage. How is there a pop-up already… He cocks his head, looks for the X to close the window.

╔══════════════╗

GLIMPSE EARNED

CLAIM YOUR PRIZE

╚══════════════╝

The text changes.

╔══════════════╗

KOZUME KENMA,  
ENJOY YOUR GLIMPSE

╚══════════════╝

Kenma’s heart races. The words barely register before his eyes begin to feel heavy. His head falls forward, and Kenma sleeps.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Kenma wakes up to the _beep beep beep_ of his alarm. His body tenses immediately as he remembers the night before. If he fell asleep at work, how did he end up back at home? He looks around - it _is_ his room, though something feels wrong.

Maybe he’s misremembering last night. He hasn’t slept for more than 3 hours on any given night in the last week or so. Maybe exhaustion is affecting his memory?

The _beep beep beep_ continues.

“You going to turn that off, babe?” He hears a voice call from the bathroom. His heart rate speeds up. He knows that voice. No matter how long it’s been since he’s seen him, he wouldn’t ever forget it.

Kuroo walks into the room in a button up and slacks, tie undone around his neck. He walks over and slides his finger along Kenma’s phone, turning it off. 

Thankfully, Kenma is wrapped tightly in the bedspread. He feels like he needs the coverage while he tries to figure out what the fuck is going on right now. Kuroo sits on the edge of the bed. He leans over Kenma, bracketing him in with his arms. “You okay?” he asks, voice full of worry.

Kenma doesn’t know what’s happening. Is he dreaming? He clears his throat. “Kuro?”

Kuroo gives him a look of confusion and slight concern. He reaches his hand out, pushes Kenma’s bangs out of the way and places his hand there. Kenma closes his eyes at the touch. “You don’t feel warm.” He’s still frowning. “Bad dream?”

“I think so.” Kenma swallows. He’s flitting between options, fight, flight or freeze, then decides it’s best to wait it out and figure out what’s going on before he freaks out. Besides, something deep in his bones, a long-held memory, reminds him that he’s always safe with Kuroo. Kuroo runs his fingers backward through Kenma’s hair and the feeling of safety gets stronger – vibrates with the frequency of Kuroo.

“I’m sorry.” Kuroo leans down and kisses Kenma on the forehead. Kenma’s breath catches at the back of his throat. _What is happening?_ “Text me if you need anything.” Kuroo gets up and starts tying his tie. “I have meetings all morning, but I’ll keep my phone nearby.”

Kenma lets his head nod the smallest amount. Kuroo is in and out of the room a few more times before he looks fully dressed and ready. Kenma doesn’t think he’s moved a centimetre. “Don’t stay in bed too much longer.” Kuroo looks down at his phone. “And eat.”

“I will.”

Kuroo smiles at him before rushing out the door. Kenma hears him call out a _Love you_ before the sound of the front door opening and closing makes its way upstairs.

The words bounce around his head – _Love you. Love you. Love you._

Kenma’s breathing comes too quickly. His brain starts to rush and scatter in a million different directions. What has happened? Where is he? He squeezes his fists tight, pushing crescent moon imprints into the palms of his hands. In – one, two, three. Out – one, two, three. He repeats his counting, focuses on slowing his breath.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

He reaches to the side table and grabs his phone. The lock screen is a meaningless photo of a skyline. Swiping his passcode, it unlocks. He takes small comfort in the fact that he still knows the correct digits. The home screen lights up. A photo of Kuroo smiles up at him - he’s holding calico cat who’s stretching up to rub its face against Kuroo’s chest. Kenma doesn’t remember the moment at all. 

The date at the top of the screen is just as he expected, one day later. He opens the camera roll, flicking through pictures, hoping that something will look familiar. There aren’t too many photos, which doesn’t surprise him. He scrolls through them and one obvious fact solidifies in his mind – he and Kuroo are together. Romantically. Kenma is just about ready to have another panic attack when he hears a knock at the front door. He gets up, pulls on a hoodie, and heads downstairs.

He opens the door to find a delivery worker waiting on the door step.

“Hello, I’m looking for Kozume Kenma.”

Kenma nods. “That’s me.”

“Sign here.” The worker hands over a clipboard and pen. Kenma signs his name along the bottom. He hands the clipboard back and receives a large envelope. “Thank you. Have a good day.”

Kenma brings the envelope inside, closing the door. He tears it open, and reads:

_Congratulations, Kozume Kenma, on being chosen to experience a Glimpse!_

_  
A glimpse allows you to live in an alternate universe to your own. This universe was created by a series of decisions you could have made in the last 1-5 years. Your time in the glimpse is not permanent. The amount of time spent in the glimpse is dependent on the individual and cannot be predicted by the overseeing body of glimpse support workers._

_You are not in a coma._  
You are not on your deathbed.  
You are not experiencing a good (or bad) trip on hallucinogens.

_Please note that while you experience your glimpse, time is stationary in your primary universe. Please be assured no individual in universe prime will be harmed by you experiencing your glimpse._

_Enjoy!_

Kenma lowers the paper slowly from his face. What the fuck?

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Kenma goes through the house room by room, hoping to better understand the life he’s stepped into. Some are near identical to what he remembers. Both the kitchen and the living room seem laid out in the same way.

Some rooms are completely different – the guest room now functions as an office. Kenma walks in. A large cardigan is draped on the back of the desk chair. Without thinking about it, he picks it up and puts it on. It’s exceptionally oversized on his frame, swallowing his fingertips. He breathes in the fabric at the collar. Papers containing Kuroo’s precise hand writing cover the surface of the table. He looks around – a plant in the corner of the room, bookshelves on the opposite wall, photos filling up the space in between.

He takes each image in one by one. A photo of him and his parents at his high school graduation. One of Kuroo’s grandparents in their living room. Several of them with friends he remembers from volleyball, from university, some people he doesn’t know at all. Kenma curls his fingers into tight fists as he takes in the next. Kuroo sits in a large arm chair. His arms are wound around a smiling Kenma, who sits sideways in his lap, his legs thrown over the armrest. It’s obvious neither Kuroo nor Kenma knew this picture was being taken, each of them seemingly lost to the world as they stare at one another. Kenma feels his eyes begin to tear up at the intimacy of the photo – at the fact that he has never felt anything like it.

He continues his tour. Some rooms have small changes – a streaming schedule on the wall of his gaming room, post-it notes laying out work flow processes. He notices that he’s supposed to stream this afternoon – 2 to 6. He goes into the bathroom and finds a small note, clearly ripped off of the corner of a larger piece of paper, tucked into the mirror frame. He tugs the paper loose.

_I like the way your face scrunches when you’re annoyed_

Kenma rolls his eyes, but can’t stop the smile that takes over his face as his fingers run over the ink. He pockets the piece of paper. Walking into his bedroom – _their_ bedroom, he supposes – he makes note of the clothes in their closet, Kuroo’s pushed to the left side. There’s a paperback novel on the bedside table, well worn along the spine. He goes through the dresser, finds the drawers that are his. In the top drawer, below his underwear, he finds more notes. A lot of notes. All containing Kuroo’s scrawl.

_I like the freckles on your thighs_

_I like driving nowhere with you_

_I like that you hold my hand even though you’re embarrassed_

_I like the home we made_

Kenma pushes them all back to the bottom of the drawer. He slides down the wall next to the dresser, and sits quietly there as his heart pounds. He doesn’t know how long he stays there.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“I’m home,” Kuroo calls into the house as he enters.

When Kenma gets to the living room, he sees Kuroo sprawled out on the sofa. His workbag is thrown down at the door, a plastic bag full of takeout perched on the kotatsu. Kuroo’s arm is thrown over his eyes. “I’m exhausted,” he whines at Kenma.

“Hi.” Kenma pokes at Kuroo’s stomach.

“Mmm, hello.” Kuroo reaches out, blindly pulling at Kenma’s arms. Kenma sways before letting his body fall on top of Kuroo’s. “Did the day get better?” Kuroo’s voice is slow, syllables dragged out by the time of day.

Kenma nods. “It did.”

“I know what went wrong.” Kuroo shifts then, pulling something out of his pocket. “You forgot this by the sink.” He holds out a ring. Kenma’s brain takes longer to register the item than his body does. His arm automatically moves so Kuroo can slip it onto his left ring finger. “There.” Kuroo’s eyes are impossibly soft as he looks at Kenma.

Kenma’s breathing comes faster, his head swims. The only thing he can think to do is lean up and kiss Kuroo – _kiss Kuroo_ – for the first time in his life. Kenma’s lips tingle when he pulls away. “Thank you.”

Kuroo’s hands are rubbing up and down along Kenma’s back. His eyes are closed again as he quietly whispers, “We have to eat before we sleep.”

“Who said I’m sleepy?”

“Well, I am.” Kuroo sits up. “I brought home food. Come on.” Kuroo settles on the floor, tugs open the takeout bag, pulling out container after container to place on the table.

“Work was bad?” Kenma asks hesitantly. He doesn’t want to say the wrong thing, doesn’t want to screw anything up. He feels wildly out of practice with human interaction.

“Not really. Still have a lot to do before the 28th though.”

Kenma nods. It’s a few weeks away – the first of the month having just passed. Kenma makes a note to look through his email before bed to figure out what’s happening on the 28th. “Anything I can help with?”

“More than you’re already doing?” Kuroo shakes his head. They sit and begin to eat. “Just tell me it’s going to be great and I’m not totally ruining our company and its reputation.”

A few more gears click into place. So, Kuroo runs, at least in part, Bouncing Ball here. “It’s going to be fine. You’re not ruining Bouncing Ball.”

Kuroo sighs. “Thanks, babe.” Kenma’s cheeks colour, he looks down at his very interesting meal. Kuroo continues, “Still, I can’t wait until you’re done with school and can come back to the company.”

Kenma chews slowly. “Soon.” He fishes for more information. “What do you have left to do?”

Kuroo wails loudly and Kenma laughs at him. _Dramatic_. “We have a few more tables worth of tickets to sell to meet our goal. Still need confirmation from two of the five prefecture representatives invited. Most of the auction items have been settled on, but I still need to figure out how I’m going to collect them all before the night.” He takes a drawn-out breath. “But other than that, we’re pretty set.”

Kenma pushes food around on his plate, thinking. “Give me a list of the auction items. I can go pick some up between streams.”

“You have to focus on finishing your degree.”

Kenma rolls his eyes. “I can handle it.” He pins Kuroo with his look. “Let me help.”

Kuroo nods. “You’re right. I’ll email you tomorrow.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“What time is Sugawara coming over today?”

“Should be here soon.”

Kuroo nods. “I’m heading to the gym then. Have fun.” Kenma leans his head up for Kuroo to kiss him on the way out of the room.

It’s taken Kenma almost no effort to get used to living with Kuroo – eating with him, talking with him, sleeping next to him every night. There’s a small part of him that’s scared of how easily and happily he’s taken to this life with Kuroo. Kenma has an envelope stored in his streaming room reminding him that this is temporary, that he shouldn’t get used to the comfort of his life here.

His phone vibrates in his back pocket.

**Sugawara:**

_I’m stopping for coffee, want me to pick anything up for you?_

Kenma types out a _no thanks._

Kenma brings his laptop to the kitchen, pulls out his comp sci notes. It took a while to figure out what his calendar meant when it read “Sugawara Sensei” every Saturday morning. He clicks open a folder titled _Executive Functioning - Resources._ Scanning the folder, he opens a PDF or two to read its content. In the folder he finds article upon article about things like task initiation, impulse control, organization. Things that Kenma always just thought he was _bad_ at, and other people were _good_ at. It seems he was wrong. It seems Sugawara is helping him with these things. He reads a few of the articles as he waits for Sugawara to show up. 

“I got pastries.” Sugawara holds up a small paper bag when Kenma opens the door for him.

“Come in.” He leads him to the kitchen.

Sugawara sets the food on the kitchen table, throws his messenger bag on the ground next to the chair he deposits himself in. Kenma turns on the kettle to make himself tea. 

“Didn’t eat yet?” Sugawara asks.

Kenma shakes his head. “No. Just woke up.”

Sugawara laughs. “I figured. I grabbed some of those apple turnovers you like.” Sugawara pulls out what looks like a stack of student’s work. “Have you started your graphics problem set?”

Kenma feels his footing in the conversation take hold. He’s lucky that he’s in the same courses here as he was in his own world. He shakes his head. “Not yet.”

Sugawara nods. “It’s due at the end of next week, right?”

“Mm,” Kenma hums. He pours himself a mug of tea and comes to sit at the table with Sugawara.

“How about we work for an hour, then take an Overcooked break?” 

“Okay.” 

Eventually Sugawara stretches. “How many questions did you get through?”

Kenma scrolls up through his work. “Three of the five.”

“Wonderful!” Sugawara gets up and moves to the living room, turning on the Switch. Kenma follows him, and settles behind the kotatsu in front of the TV, grabbing a controller. “What world did we leave off on?”

“I can’t remember,” Kenma answers very honestly.

“Daichi still won’t play with me at home.” Sugawara pouts. “He says I get too bossy.” Kenma smiles, hoping Sugawara doesn’t need much in the way of conversation. He’s not sure of the usual cadence of their interactions – not having been close friends in his other life. “Who needs him anyway, when I have one of Japan’s top gaming streamers helping me save the onion kingdom?”

As they play, Kenma becomes sure of one thing. Daichi is right – Sugawara is very bossy. Kenma ends up laughing more than once as an indignant Sugawara flaps and screams at his avatar on screen. “Why would he throw the chicken in the river! Throw it on the ground! THE GROUND!”

“Maybe it’s time we turn the game off.”

“Hmm, okay,” Sugawara agrees. “We did get to world 4. That’s something to be proud of!” He marches them back to their real work, once again Kenma trailing behind. When they’re both sitting, Sugawara asks, “Do you want to look over your exam schedule together?” Kenma, fully settled into the just-go-along-with-whatever-the-hell-is-happening way of living in this world, agrees easily. He pulls up his schedule online, turning his laptop toward Sugawara.

Sugawara scans the screen. “Which ones are going to require the most time preparing for?”

Kenma shrugs up one shoulder. “Probably 451. Maybe 410 too.”

“Oh, it’s good that those are first, then! If you send me a screen capture of your exam line up, I’ll put together a study schedule!”

A tightness creeps into Kenma’s chest, crawling up his throat. Guilt and shame settling in his veins. Relying on others, asking for help, needing people – it’s not a natural state for Kenma. “Why do you do all of this?”

Sugawara is back to scribbling on his student’s work in a red pen. “Do what?”

“Help me.”

Sugawara looks up at him. “Because you’re my friend.” That answer knocks around in Kenma’s brain. _Oh._ He’s not sure what Sugawara reads on his face, but he continues. “I’m a teacher. I like helping people learn! And coming over to work with you helps me too! It makes sure I get my horrible horrible marking done! And gets me out of the apartment and away from that nuisance Sawamura Daichi.”

Kenma smiles at Sugawara then. He remembers how the captain and vice-captain of Karasuno used to look at each other in high school. He feels a small warmth inside that it worked out for them. “Thank you,” is the response Kenma settles on.

“It’s no problem, Kenma.” Sugawara’s voice is patient, kind. Kenma thinks this is probably how he sounds in the classroom. His students are very lucky. “It’s not a bad thing to have trouble with some of these things. Everyone’s brains are different. And yours being the way it is, is what makes you so good at the things you like!”

Kenma feels his cheeks heat up, emotion welling in his chest. If he were alone, he thinks he might cry. There are so many things that everyone else seemed to just be able to do that Kenma found hard. Starting on assignments, taking breaks from gaming to eat, remembering to buy groceries. He feels very thankful for Sugawara Koushi.

Kenma walks Sugawara to the door. “I know your subscribers are voting for the next game you play, but if I could have any sway in your decision, I think you should play more Dead by Daylight.”

Kenma smiles. “I’ll take it into account.”

“Oh!” Sugawara jumps. “I almost forgot! You and Kuroo have to come over for dinner! Daichi’s done with his piece for the JVA auction! It’s really beautiful. I’ll send pictures!”

He nods. “I’ll tell Kuro.”

Sugawara heads out. “See you next week!” Kenma waves as Sugawara retreats.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“We’re heading to the restaurant soon – get ready,” Kuroo says, leaning into his streaming room.

Kenma swivels on his chair. “Let me finish up this cut first.”

Kuroo comes into the room to sit on the sofa at the side. “What gameplay is this one?”

“Dark Souls speed run.”

“That was a good stream. The chat was timing it, I think you didn’t blink for like 4 whole minutes at one point.”

“I was focused.”

“It was cute.”

“It wasn’t.”

Kuroo shrugs. “I’m a bit biased but it was. Everything you do is cute.”

Kenma frowns. “I don’t know.”

“Sorry, but it is.” Kuroo stands up, waits behind Kenma’s chair. “Can you finish later? We have to be out of the house in 10 minutes to be on time.”

“You just don’t want Akaashi to be there before us.”

“You know if it weren’t for Akaashi, Bokuto would be 40 minutes late to the wrong restaurant, so really he shouldn’t give us a hard time.”

Kenma hits save on his project. “Okay, okay. I’m done.” He swivels in this chair and puts his arms up.

“You are so high maintenance.” Kuroo easily picks him up and carries him to their bedroom.

“What do I need to wear?”

“Something nice.”

Kenma grumbles. “Why can’t we just get take out and eat it at Bokuto’s place?”

“Because we are celebrating.”

“But we’re celebrating me, so shouldn’t I get to have a say?”

Kuroo’s teasing expression turns to concern. “Do you really not want to go?”

Kenma thinks. He focuses on the twist in his stomach he sometimes gets when he thinks about leaving the house. There is a dull sort of tingle now, but not nearly to the level he usually feels. “It’s fine. I’m just complaining.”

Kuroo relaxes. He’s sitting on their bed waiting for Kenma to change. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

Kenma has his sweatshirt up and off when he turns around and walks to Kuroo. He stands in between Kuroo’s legs, Kuroo’s hands sitting on Kenma’s hips. His heart rate picks up, beating in his ears as he decides his next words. “I think I’ll deserve a reward later though.” His hands scratch at the nape of Kuroo’s neck. “For being so good.”

Kuroo leans forward and kisses Kenma on the hollow of his throat. “Kenma…” he whines as he pulls away. “If this is you trying to get me to call and cancel – it’s working.” Kuroo looks at him, completely serious.

It makes Kenma laugh. He wonders how it’s possible for _this_ Kuroo to be so gone for him. “I think we can wait.” He bites his lip. Kuroo only has to wait a few more hours. Kenma’s been waiting 24 years. He turns around to go back to their dresser. Kuroo smacks him on the backside as he walks away.

He’s smirking now. “How are you so good at that?” Kuroo asks.

“Good at what?”

Kuroo shakes his head like he’s absolutely done with Kenma while also being completely smitten. He lets the question hang in the air. Kenma supposes it doesn’t really need an answer. Even if he can’t believe the implication of the exchange.

Kenma’s changed, his hair pulled back and braided to the side. “This okay?” He motions down to his attire. Kenma admits he can see the benefit of dressing up by the way Kuroo’s eyes rake down his body

“Absolutely.” Kuroo comes over and kisses him soundly. Kenma follows his mouth when he pulls back, urging Kuroo to exchange more kisses with him.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The restaurant is across town. Kuroo drives, which turns out to be a much more enjoyable experience than Kenma was anticipating. As Kuroo focuses on the road ahead of him, Kenma is free to watch him. How is this Kuroo so similar to the friend he remembers, when Kenma feels like life has drained a part of him in Kuroo’s absence?

Kuroo crosses his hands over one another as he makes a turn, and Kenma’s eyes settle on the biggest difference. Light reflects off the ring sitting snuggly on Kuroo’s left hand.

Them. In love. Married.

Kenma’s breathing comes faster as he sits with that fact.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“To the real reason we’re here tonight – Kenma’s ten millionth subscriber!”

“Cheers!” They clink their glasses together once again. Kenma’s face is flushed from the drinks. It feels like they’re celebrating every minor accomplishment with a drink now.

Kenma smiles at his friends. He doesn’t think he’s worth all the fuss, going out to a fancy dinner, the congratulations, the praise. He’s trying his best not to shrink at the compliments.

“I’m so proud of you, Kenma,” Bokuto wails at him. Whether its with sincere or exaggerated feeling, Kenma can’t tell.

“Thank you, Bokuto.”

“If you’re so proud, you can buy a few more seats to the JVA fundraiser,” Kuroo interrupts, and Kenma rolls his eyes.

“Are tables not sold out yet?” Akaashi asks.

“We’ve met our goal for attendance but we can squeeze in another 3 tables if we can sell the tickets.”

Bokuto’s face is pulled in concentration. “Is there anyone from MSBY that hasn’t bought tickets yet?”

“Not really.”

Bokuto groans. “I don’t know who else I would even _get_ tickets for!”

“Would either of your sisters be interested in it?” Bokuto’s always an easy sell. “You’ve got nephews, maybe they’d want to come see some Olympic players.”

“You shouldn’t have said that,” Akaashi remarks right before Bokuto throws this head back and wails.

“Neither of them even _like_ volleyball,” Bokuto complains. “All they talk about is baseball this, baseball that.”

“That’s rough, buddy.” Kuroo reaches out and pats Bokuto’s arm.

“Stupid baseball,” Bokuto mumbles. Akaashi leans over Bokuto, kisses him softly on the cheek. It placates him some.

Kuroo’s hand reaches under the table to rest on Kenma’s thigh. It distracts Kenma completely. Kenma’s mind glazes over, the voices of Kuroo and Bokuto mixing hazily into the background of his thoughts. Kuroo’s thumb moves along Kenma’s leg, like he’s not even aware of the effect he has on Kenma. Kenma _tsks_ to himself. He probably isn’t. To _his_ Kenma, this isn't anything special. His Kenma always gets Kuroo’s touch and attention. Is it normal to be jealous of himself?

Kenma has no idea how long he has here, how long he’ll get to bask in the warmth of Kuroo’s affection. He wants to take as much as he can, store it for when he’s back in his world. Let it keep him company there when he’s alone and cold and tired. He reaches down and curls his fingers around Kuroo’s hand. _I want to keep him._

Kuroo must feel the change in Kenma’s demeanour. He leans over to Kenma, chin on Kenma’s shoulder, lips close to Kenma’s ear. “Hey.”

Kenma smiles. “Hi.” It’s then that Kenma notices that both Bokuto and Akaashi are putting on their jackets, money placed on the table. “Time to go?”

Kuroo chuckles. “Yes, daydreamer.” He kisses the side of Kenma’s head. “Come on.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

They get home, and Kenma swallows the fear clinging to his bones. “Tetsurou?” Kuroo looks over. They’re in their room. Kuroo turns on the small lamp on his bedside table. Kenma walks up to him, reaching to hold onto Kuroo’s button up shirt. He angles his head up, tugs on the shirt and kisses Kuroo with a desperation he hopes Kuroo understands.

Kuroo responds easily, large hands circling Kenma’s waist. Kenma licks at Kuroo’s lips which open for him, hungry for more contact. Wet and hot and not nearly enough. 

They break apart, Kenma settling back to the flats of his feet. He looks up with big eyes, blinking at Kuroo, whose own pupils have dilated. He towers over Kenma and Kenma’s breath catches. It’s the first time he’s felt truly small next to Kuroo.

Kenma moves, pushing himself up the bed. Kuroo crawls after him. They fall into another kiss and Kenma takes the distraction to reach out and undo the buttons on Kuroo’s shirt. He hopes Kuroo doesn’t notice how his fingers shake. Kenma slides his hands against Kuroo’s skin under the fabric of his shirt, pushing it off of his shoulders. Kuroo sits back on his heels to fully remove his shirt.

Kenma’s heart is beating so wildly he feels like Kuroo must be able to feel it across the space between them, like it’s being carried through the air. Kuroo sits like a memory of Kenma’s high school secrets. “You’re really handsome,” he observes as Kuroo removes his belt, then his trousers.

Kuroo looks up at him, entirely pleased with himself. Kenma is sure he’s heard similar things from his Kenma hundreds of times at this point. Why he’s still so happy with Kenma’s approval, Kenma isn’t sure. _Because he loves you_ , Kenma thinks, and quickly pushes it down. He doesn’t deserve it – this unearned love for a Kenma that’s not him.

Kuroo’s hands undo the buttons of Kenma’s shirt, quickly take off Kenma’s jeans and underwear. Kuroo leans down over him, the muscles in his core tensing as he holds himself above Kenma’s body. “What do you want tonight?” Kuroo’s voice is like melted candle wax, Kenma thinks he might burn.

“You.”

“You always have me.” Kuroo kisses down his throat, sucks at a spot under his jaw. “Tell me what to do for you.”

Kenma doesn’t know what to say. Everything he wants and everything he’s allowed is suddenly too much for him to parse through. “Touch me.” It’s the only statement he’s sure of. Kuroo leans and kisses him again, before moving to grab something from the drawer beside their bed. Kenma sees the lube resting on the comforter and shivers.

Kenma’s fingers twist into the fabric below him. He feels embarrassed at the level of need coursing through him – a small whine leaves his throat. Kuroo’s smirking now. “Excited tonight?” Kuroo taps on Kenma’s knee. “Open.” He settles himself in between Kenma’s legs. Kenma thinks he must be red down to his chest.

“Tet – Tetsu.”

Kuroo smooths a hand up and down Kenma’s thighs. “I’ve got you.” Kenma’s eyes are squeezed shut already, overwhelmed. He feels Kuroo’s fingers curl around his cock, slippery with lube. A deep moan leaves his throat as Kuroo begins to stroke. “You’re so beautiful like this.” Kuroo’s voice is too sincere, too full of awe. It curls itself in Kenma’s stomach.

Kenma reaches toward Kuroo’s underwear, fingers skimming the waist band. “You too.”

Kuroo’s hand continues to move up and down, too slow for Kenma’s body. “I want to watch you tonight.” Kenma’s breath stutters in his lungs. Kuroo’s hands fit perfectly around him, covering him so nicely with a familiarity Kenma craves. Large drops of precome bead at the tip; Kuroo swipes his thumb through it. “Look at you.”

Kenma continues to make breathy noises as Kuroo brings him closer and closer to the edge. “Tetsurou.” He cants his hips up, thrusts into Kuroo’s fist, giving Kuroo access to his backside. “Can you? Please.” He squirms, wanting so badly for Kuroo to fill him up. He feels empty, empty, _empty_. “Please.” he repeats, more desperate.

“Fuck, yeah.” Kuroo’s voice vibrates along Kenma’s skin. Kenma feels a wet digit circle his entrance. He’s already moaning by the time Kuroo pushes his first finger in. “You take it so well, Kenma.” Kuroo’s eyes are trained on Kenma’s backside. His large, pretty fingers push in and out of Kenma’s hole. Kenma clenches down on them. “ _Kenma_.” Kuroo all but growls the word.

Kenma pulls Kuroo close, kisses him, open mouthed and wet. “Make me come, Tetsu,” Kenma demands. He wants it so much, feels so impossibly wound and almost there, a tightrope of need pulled taut in his core. Kuroo pushes deeper, fucks Kenma with his fist faster. His body tenses again and again as waves of euphoria pulse through him. The last spurts of come drip down Kuroo’s knuckles. Kenma’s head goes dizzy at the sight. Already wanting again, wishing his body would let him.

“You’re so fucking perfect.” Kuroo leans back down once Kenma is spent, kisses Kenma with renewed vigor. “So fucking hot.” He licks and sucks at Kenma’s mouth, Kenma’s neck.

“Now you, let me see you.” Kenma pushes on Kuroo’s shoulder. He reaches for a piece of clothing to wipe down his chest while Kuroo settles on his back. Kenma straddles one of Kuroo’s thighs. He pushes himself forward, rubbing Kuroo’s thigh along his crease as he watches.

“Fucking fuck.” Kuroo has one hand on Kenma’s hips. The other reaches into his briefs. Kenma pulls at the waist band until he can finally see Kuroo’s cock and balls. Kuroo’s leaking down his length already, making it shiny.

Kenma’s hand bumps up against Kuroo’s fist. “Let me.” Kuroo groans as Kenma takes over jerking him off. Kuroo’s fingers on Kenma’s side dig in, pulling tightly. Kenma watches every twitch of Kuroo’s muscles, finding what he wants, finding what he needs. Kuroo keeps moaning, sighing out little words of encouragement when Kenma does something he particularly likes. Kenma catalogues each sound, each twist in the sheets. He leans forward and sucks hard on Kuroo’s chest, marking him in deep reds. He feels Kuroo’s hips pump and stutter against his fist, continues to stroke through Kuroo’s orgasm. 

Kenma leans back, drawing his now dirty hand up to his mouth. His tongue comes out to taste what’s there. “Kenma, you’re killing me,” Kuroo groans but he’s laughing now, high off of his orgasm. “Let’s go shower.”

Kenma pushes a finger fully into his mouth, sucking. “Okay.” It takes a while for them to make it to sleep that night.


	2. Chapter 2

“Kenma!” Hinata shouts when he opens the door to see Kenma standing there.

“Hi, Shouyou.” Kenma smiles. He doesn’t think anyone could get used to the warmth and joy that Hinata Shouyou exudes.

“How was the train ride?” Hinata opens the door wider for Kenma to follow him inside.

“It was good.”

“How long can you stay? Did you eat breakfast? Who else do you have to meet with? Can I come?” Hinata fires off the questions in quick succession. It’s a comfort knowing no matter the universe, Shouyou will always be Shouyou.

“I ate a bit before I left but I could eat again. I can stay for an hour or so. I’m picking up things from Atsumu and Sakusa today, and if you have time, then please, I’d like you to come.”

Hinata nods his head along with each answer Kenma gives. “Sweet!” He marches them toward the kitchen and begins pulling out food. “I’m really excited for the auction!”

“It will be nice to see everyone in one place.”

“Ah, yeah! Everyone.” Hinata clears his throat, does his best to keep his voice even, which is the greatest tip off to his curiosity. “Did you guys decide on the seating arrangements yet?”

Kenma laughs. “You mean, are you sitting with Kageyama?”

Hinata makes a series of huffing sounds. “What? Why? Would I? Huh?”

“He’s at your table.”

Hinata settles immediately. “Oh, that’s interesting. Good to know.”

“Is it?”

Hinata sticks out his tongue. “Anyway! How’s Kuroo?”

“Good. Stressed.” Kenma rests his head on his hands. “It will be nice when all of this is over.”

Hinata nods. “You should do something for him!”

Kenma’s cheeks blush. “I do things for him.”

“Ew, Kenma, don’t tell me that stuff!”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“You were thinking it!” Hinata points, throwing around his baseless accusations. “I can tell.” Hinata taps his chin. “Actually, you can tell me that stuff if you want.”

“Shouyou!”

“I said if you want!”

Kenma huffs. “Well, I don’t!”

Hinata laughs. “You’re so funny, Kenma. No wonder it took you guys so long to get together.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, I mean, he was crazy about you in high school, right?”

“He was?” Kenma asks, always wanting to know more about the Kuroo that chose to love Kozume Kenma.

“Duh!” Shouyou throws his hands around. “I don’t even think my _dad_ looks at my mom the way Kuroo looked at you.”

It makes Kenma’s skin buzz. He wonders if that’s something that carries over to his time. Did Kuroo look at him some way that he just never noticed? Why didn’t he notice? “Mm, I don’t know.”

“I do,” Shouyou says with absolute confidence. “And I _know_ you liked him then too.”

“Seems like you know a lot.”

“I’m very in tune with people’s emotions.”

Kenma snorts. “Except people called Kageyama Tobio.”

Hinata throws his hands up. “If he would just _have_ emotions, I could know them!” He takes a calming breath. “As I was saying. You both liked each other for a long time before you got together. It’s funny. How did you finally figure it out? That he had feelings for you?”

Kenma sits stock still, not sure how to answer the question. _When I woke up in our bed, married to him_. Doesn’t seem like the answer that Hinata would expect. He shrugs. “I think Kuroo figured it out first.” He can’t think of it any other way – how would he have ever guessed that Kuroo could want him like _this_?

He pulls out his phone, twirls it in his fingers for a few moments before he decides to text Kuroo.

**Kenma:**

_When did you know you liked me?_

He wonders if he’s ever asked Kuroo this directly. Maybe this is something he should know.

**Kuroo:**

_Huh? What’s this? Why?_

**Kenma:**

_Shouyou asked._

**Kuroo:**

_I will happily tell you the story – how long do you have?_

_It was 2002 when my Dad moved us to a new neighbourhood._

_I was 8 years old._

**Kenma:**

_Never mind._

**Kuroo:**

_Kenma! Let me finish!_

**Kenma:**

_Fine._

**Kuroo:**

_Thank you._

_I was 8 and I met a boy who liked to repeatedly kick my ass in Tekken._

_It was either then or when he grabbed me by the face and kissed me while I was hyperventilating about my second-year private equity final._

_But he followed that by calling me an idiot a bunch of times. So probably the first one._

**Kenma:**

_You are an idiot._

**Kuroo:**

_It’s nice that our spark hasn’t died._

Kenma looks up, smiling at Hinata. “Ooooh, you like your husband!” Hinata laughs and points.

“Shut up.” Kenma tries his best to frown, throwing a nearby napkin at Hinata’s head. He remembers that final – remembers Kuroo freaking out about it. He wonders what pushed him to comfort Kuroo with a kiss, instead of whatever Kenma did in his own world. Could he have had this? Or something like it?

Hinata leaves the room, coming back with an Asas Sao Paolo jersey. “They mocked up the jersey I’ll have when I play there next year.” He grabs a sharpie and signs it with big cursive on the back. “Here.” He looks contemplative. “I don’t know who would bid on it, but I hope it helps!”

“It will. Thanks, Shouyou.”

“Let’s go see the others!” Hinata happily leads them out of the apartment.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Kenma finishes up a morning stream to find Kuroo happily singing in the kitchen. “Sounding great,” Kenma observes. Kuroo makes a face, turning the music up as it spills from a speaker on the counter. 

“Come dance with me.”

Kenma’s face scrunches up. “I’ll pass, thanks.” He turns around to leave the room.

“Nooo!” He moves over to Kenma, puts his hands on either side of Kenma’s hips, spinning him around. “Don’t leave.”

Kenma rolls his eyes. He indulges Kuroo – he always does – by placing his hands on Kuroo’s shoulders. They bounce back and forth together while Kuroo starts to sing once more. It’s not long until Kenma’s laughing at the absurdity of Kuroo Tetsurou. Or more specifically at the absurdity that Kuroo Tetsurou could be standing barefoot in his kitchen singing to Kozume Kenma, and clearly so in love with him.

Eventually Kenma breaks away. “Why are you making so much noise in here?”

“It’s the weekend and I’m stressed so I’m baking!” Kuroo claps his hands together. “You and me are going to make apple crumble.”

“You _and_ me?”

“Mhm! My lovely sous-chef.” He pushes Kenma toward the sink. “We need to start by peeling these apples.”

“All of them?” Kenma thinks there are a lot of apples, probably way more than they need.

“Yes. They shrink when cooked.”

“And we’re going to peel these with our hands?”

“Smartass.” Kuroo holds up two peelers, handing Kenma one.

“This better be worth it,” Kenma grumbles.

“Of course! Would I ever lead you astray?”

“You convinced me to play a sport competitively for six years. I don’t think I can trust anything you say.”

“My beautiful Kenma.” Kuroo places his hands over his heart. “Are you admitting you played specifically for me? As a way to get closer to the good looking senior you had a crush on?”

Kenma rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue. He’s not wrong. “If that’s what you want to believe.”

“That’s the Kenma equivalent of a whole-hearted endorsement.”

“Is it?”

“Don’t worry,” Kuroo assures. “I’ve always been whipped for you too.” Kuroo softly smiles at his own words. It’s small moments like this that make Kenma wonder the most. About his own world, his own time. Would Kuroo have the same soft smile there? Would Kenma be able to be the one to put it there?

They peel and cook the apples with minimal complaining from Kenma. “Now that the apples are ready, we’re going to make the crumble part.” He brings out a big bowl. “We’re going to mix this flour with these oats and a bunch of sugar and butter.”

Kuroo puts the required amounts of each in the bowl before beginning to mix them with his hands. Kenma doesn’t really think this is a two-person job, but it gives him an excuse to touch Kuroo’s hands while they work.

Kenma holds up his two hands, covered in butter and sugar. “My hands are dirty.” Kenma’s frown is exaggerated, he puts them toward Kuroo.

Kuroo gives Kenma a warning look. “Don’t you dare, Kenma.”

“I have to wipe my hands on _something_ and your shirt seems as good an option as any.”

Kuroo’s eyes shift quickly in fear before he lifts his own butter smeared hands from the bowl. “I guess we go down together.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Kenma has stopped counting the number of days he’s been in this life. He still feels overwhelmed sometimes by the amount of support he’s getting from those around him, the guilt of it all never quite leaving. More often though he is simply enjoying his time. Enjoying his Saturday work mornings with Sugawara, enjoying dinners with Akaashi and Tora, enjoying spending every night and morning with Kuroo.

He presses the elevator button that will bring him to Kuroo’s office. It’s well past dinner time; Kuroo texted him earlier telling him that he’ll be home late tonight. Kenma has a bag containing a dinner he packed and a bottle of strawberry milk he’d picked up at a corner store.

The elevator door dings open and Kenma navigates darkened hallways until he reaches Kuroo’s door. He gently opens the door, Kuroo’s head snapping up to the sound. “Kenma.” Kuroo’s smiling, though his eyes betray how tired he is.

Kenma has pieced together that Kuroo has put together a charity auction, in association with the JVA, to support underfunded and underperforming prefectures at the national level. It’s the first time Bouncing Ball has gotten this level of JVA endorsement and acknowledgement. Kuroo is putting much more pressure on himself than he needs to be. As with most things Kuroo has ever set out to accomplish, his standards are quite a lot higher than the average person. Kenma would call him a perfectionist, Kuroo would scowl at that description.

Kenma closes the door behind himself, turning around to lock it. “You missed dinner,” he announces, walking around to each window, lowering the blinds.

“I’m sorry,” Kuroo sighs. “It won’t be for much longer.”

“You work too hard.” Kenma moves to stand in front of him. Kuroo’s turned in his chair so he’s parallel to his desk. “Breaks are important too.” Kenma puts the bag of food on the book shelf behind Kuroo. He then starts to clear off Kuroo’s desk. He moves every sheet of paper, pen holder, laptop, each item one by one from the surface of the desk.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m taking care of you.” Once Kuroo’s desk is clear, Kenma unzips his hoodie, drops it from bare shoulders to the ground. His chest is heaving up and down in his anxiety. This feels so much more than he would normally do. As always, it’s Kuroo that pulls him from his comfort zone, dragging him forward with a thumping heart into things that are so much better.

Kuroo watches him with shallow breaths as Kenma reaches down, removing his own shoes, his socks, his sweatpants, until he stands there naked. Kuroo whispers out an almost pained “Fuck,” reaching out to stroke along Kenma’s sides with his hands. Kenma moves forward, sitting on Kuroo’s lap. He kisses Kuroo then, opening his mouth to let Kuroo’s tongue in. Kuroo’s hand moves up to cradle his jaw, keeping him close. His other hand moves to Kenma’s backside, grabbing a handful and squeezing. Kenma’s hips stutter forward, his cock beginning to fill.

He reaches his hands forward to undo Kuroo’s shirt, letting it hang from Kuroo’s frame as his fingers roam Kuroo’s chest. Kenma’s nails drag along Kuroo’s skin, creating red lines. He scratches against Kuroo’s nipple and Kuroo bites at Kenma’s lips in retaliation.

Kuroo’s belt is undone and then his trousers. Kenma reaches in, pulling out his cock, stroking until Kuroo is full and heavy in his hands. He turns then and leans over Kuroo’s desk, presenting himself to Kuroo fully. His cheeks burn with embarrassment, but instead of sending discomfort through his system, it tingles pleasantly along every nerve. He places his chest to the surface of the desk, turns his head to lock eyes with Kuroo. “In the pocket of my sweatshirt.”

Kuroo follows the instruction and pulls out a bottle of lube. Kenma feels cool wetness slide down his cheeks to his entrance. Kuroo’s voice shakes as he slides his fingers up and down Kenma’s crease, not yet entering him. “You don’t know what you do to me, Kenma.” Kenma thinks he’s wrong, he has it backwards.

Kuroo pushes a digit in and Kenma arches up, whining at the intrusion. A second is added quickly, stretching Kenma apart. He feels sweat start to gather at his hairline when Kuroo starts to really fuck him with his fingers. Kenma wishes he could watch them like this. Him, naked and open, Kuroo taking anything he wants from Kenma.

A small moan crawls out of his throat. “Tetsu – I’m ready.” Kuroo pushes back hair from Kenma’s face. The soft sweetness of it makes Kenma tremble. “I’m ready, fuck me.”

Kuroo pushes in three fingers harder than before, deeper than before. It squelches inside when he adds more lube, making sure Kenma is wet. He feels Kuroo hold his cheeks apart and then there’s the pressure of Kuroo’s hard cockhead squeezing against his entrance. Kuroo growls at the first break of pressure, his cock slipping past the tight ring of muscle. “Feels so good.”

Kenma lies on his forearms and takes whatever Kuroo will give him, whatever Kuroo needs from him. Kuroo’s first few thrusts are slow and direct, hitting him deep. “Look at you.” Kuroo pulls out, giving a couple of shallow thrusts, the head of his cock catching on Kenma’s rim with each push. “Swallowing me up.” Kenma loses control of his voice, strings of whimpers coming out with each breath.

Kuroo steadily picks up pace, fucking harder and faster into Kenma. Kuroo’s breaths heave with exertion; he’s pounding so deep Kenma’s toes barely touch the floor as he’s stretched across Kuroo’s desk. His cock hangs swollen and aching between his legs. Kuroo leans over his body, voice dripping into his ear. “We’re gonna make a mess, Kenma.” His words are slurred. “Gonna make _you_ a mess, Kenma.” He moves to mouth at Kenma’s neck, his shoulder, repeatedly filling Kenma’s insides.

With a final slap of Kuroo’s hips, Kenma feels himself fill with warmth. Kuroo finishes with small, uncoordinated jabs into Kenma, his come sliding inside. Kenma feels too full, his cock too hard. He whines. “Tetsurou.”

“Got you, babe.” Kuroo pulls out and Kenma clenches against the emptiness. Before he can feel the come leaking out, two of Kuroo’s fingers push the mess back in him. “Gonna clean you up, too.” Kenma hears Kuroo move, feels the scruff of Kuroo’s jaw against his backside. Kuroo’s fingers work in and out, any come that makes it past his rim being hungrily licked up by Kuroo’s tongue.

Kenma’s legs feel like jelly. He doesn’t know how he’s still upright. Kuroo’s other hand moves around to slowly jerk him off, still not giving him enough pressure to make him come. Kuroo removes his fingers completely, covering Kenma’s hole with his mouth and sucking. Kenma’s knees buckle. Both of Kuroo’s hands come up to cup Kenma’s ass cheeks, keeping him standing, opening him more. He licks into Kenma with enthusiasm, tongue digging deep into Kenma’s loosened hole.

Kenma resettles on his feet and Kuroo finally begins to stroke him again with intention. Tongue sliding in and out before flattening and lapping at the entrance, Kuroo swallows every drop of his own come. Kenma’s feeling too much, too wet, too tense. He feels the tingle start at the base of his spine, groans out a needy _Tetsu_ before he spills into Kuroo’s hand. Kuroo’s fingers catch his release.

Kuroo nudges Kenma’s body farther up on the desk so he can fully rest on it. Kenma turns his head to find Kuroo wiping off Kuroo’s hand on a tissue. On wobbly legs he sits gracelessly on Kuroo’s desk chair.

Kuroo kneels in front of Kenma. He runs both hands through Kenma’s hair. Kenma hopes Kuroo didn’t get any leftover come on him. Kuroo leans and kisses Kenma softly on the lips. Kenma’s face moves into a small smile. “There’s dinner for you in the bag.”

Kuroo’s voice is small, but so full of affection. “Thank you.” He keeps moving his hand softly against Kenma’s head. “I love you.”

“Mmm.” He closes his eyes. “How long will you be?”

“Another hour or two.” He kneels there for long moments, watching Kenma rest.

Kenma nods. He stands and dresses before walking to one of the large arm chairs at the side of Kuroo’s office. “Wake me up when it’s time for home.” He curls up and lets sleep seep into his bones. “Love you,” he mumbles without overthinking.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

They settle on the couch at night with popcorn, an old movie, and a blanket that Kenma’s fairly certain came from Kuroo’s childhood bedroom.

“Cozy?” Kuroo asks, pulling Kenma’s back against his chest, before setting his hands on Kenma’ stomach.

“Mmhmm.” Kenma nods, rubbing his cheek into Kuroo’s chest as he settles in. Outside a storm is making its way through the city, lightning flashing and thunder pounding almost at the same time.

“Wow.” Kuroo’s head turns toward the window. “That hit close.”

Light flashes on Kenma’s face. “I like storms.”

“Me too.”

Kenma angles toward Kuroo. “When it’s storming like this outside, you can’t be expected to really do anything.”

“Tree fell over, blocked my drive to work.”

“Exactly.” Kenma’s eyes are closed, he listens to the wind against the windowpane. “Internet’s down – sorry guys, no stream tonight.”

“You can do whatever you want in a bad storm.”

“Yeah.” Kenma rubs his hands against Kuroo’s sides. “Anything you want.”

Kuroo closes his eyes and breathes deeply. Kenma wonders if his time in the glimpse is almost over. He can almost pretend that this has always been his life, can almost trick himself into believing he gets to be with Kuroo for the rest of forever. He doesn’t want to go back. It feels selfish, but he can’t help it, he’d rather have this than whatever he left in his life. He opens his eyes, looking for the play button on the remote before starting the movie.

They get about half way through the movie before –

“So…” Kuroo’s voice is low. “The power just went out.”

“I’d noticed.”

“It’s dark.”

“Noticed that too.”

Kuroo gets up, pulling Kenma along by the hand. He uses his glowing phone screen to navigate to the kitchen where he fumbles through a few drawers before exclaiming, “Found it!” He pulls out a large flashlight.

“Perfect, we can entertain ourselves with shadow puppets.”

“I was thinking more romantic firelight, but I have no idea where candles are in the house.”

“So, we’re candle hunting now?”

“Yes.” Kuroo leads them out of the kitchen. Kenma twists his fingers into the fabric of Kuroo’s shirt, following him out. “We probably have some in the bathroom? I think we got some as a housewarming gift when I moved in.”

“Sounds good to me.” Kenma nods into the darkness.

They collect a number of candles, all different sizes and smells. Kuroo worries that all the smells will give him a headache, Kenma assures him he’s smelt worse. And if it does give him a headache they can lie in the dark and watch the storm. It seems like it’ll be a pretty good night either way. Kuroo grabs a deck of cards from the kitchen before they head back to the living room.

After a number of games of high stakes crazy eights (the loser has to perform one wish of the winner), all but one of which Kuroo loses, they blow out the candles and lie on the couch. Kenma lies face down on Kuroo – his cheek to Kuroo’s chest, just like how they started the night. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“Asahi covered his eyes and tried to leave the apartment without looking.” Daichi takes a drink of his beer. He and Sugawara have been telling a story together – continually cutting each other off.

“He knocked over a picture frame _and_ a lamp. Both of which broke.”

“I think that’s when he started crying.”

“He didn’t step on any glass or anything, he just got really overwhelmed,” Sugawara says and Kenma finally breaks. He feels for poor Asahi but can’t help but start laughing.

“By that time, I had my pants back on, so I got to him before he left.”

“If you hadn’t, then who knows, maybe Asahi would still have his head in his hands, wandering the earth. Wondering why he had to walk in on his best friend balls deep in his other best friend.”

“Anyway, that’s when I moved in with Suga.”

“Asahi moved apartments too. I think he was too traumatized.”

“Can’t blame him for that.” Kuroo is relaxed on the couch, Kenma sitting in the space next to him. “Kenma and I would never put our friends through something like that.”

At that, Daichi lets out a loud snort. He abruptly stops himself. “Oh, you’re serious.”

“Daichi…” Kuroo’s voice seems full of warning.

“What?” Kenma asks.

Kuroo says _nothing_ at the same moment Daichi says _Kuroo._

Kuroo sighs. “You’re an asshole,” he says, pointing to Daichi. “Remember when you spent that two weeks in Brazil with Hinata?”

Kenma remembers _his_ two weeks in Brazil so he guesses it’s not a lie. “Yes.”

“Remember how much we missed each other?”

“Yes.”

“Remember what we did when we missed each other?”

“Just tell me, Kuroo.” Kenma huffs and rolls his eyes.

“I accidentally sent Daichi a picture of my dick!” Kuroo exclaims, as quickly as possible. “Accidentally!”

Kenma starts laughing immediately. “How do you do that on accident?”

“Well, I had to leave my messaging app to take the picture, and then when I went back to it, I just sent it to the most recent conversation and some _asshole_ had texted me without me realising.”

“Lucky Daichi.” Sugawara snickers.

Daichi holds his hands up. “I deleted it right away!”

“Deleted it _and_ agreed to never speak of it again!” Kuroo folds him arms. “Which… we _are_ speaking of it again so who knows, maybe you kept it – maybe it’s your phone wallpaper right now.”

“No offense, not really worth the honour.”

Kuroo slides farther down in this seat, grumpy. Kenma’s entirely amused. He pats Kuroo on the arm. “Don’t worry, I’ll put your penis as my wallpaper.” He leans over and kisses Kuroo until he’s smiling.

“Thank you, babe.”

Sugawara claps his hands. “Are we all ready for dessert things?” With agreement from the rest of the room, he stands up. “Kenma come help me?” He points to Daichi. “You go show Kuroo the table.”

When they get to the kitchen, Sugawara lowers his voice. “Sorry, I’m sure you want to see too.” Kenma nods, but waits to hear more. Sugawara looks toward the doorway. “Being able to help with the charity thing – it’s meant a lot to him. He gets a bit emotional about it. I think he’s still guilty about leaving police work.”

“Why?” Kenma’s face scrunches.

Sugawara laughs. “I know, I know.” He pulls out a box from a local bakery and begins placing confectionaries on a serving plate. “He’s too good, wanted to really help the world.” He looks sad when he says it. “But police work wasn’t a good fit for him.”

“That’s not his fault.”

Sugawara nods. “Even though he loves building things and he’s great at woodworking, he still feels like he should have been able to stick it out with policing. So, it’s really nice that he can do this for you guys. It means a lot that he can still help people doing something that he actually likes.”

Kenma nods. “We really appreciate it.”

Sugawara’s looking back at the door. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s crying in there. Which I’m sure he hates. Idiot. Let’s go see if they’re done.”

When they go into the living room, Kuroo and Daichi are already seated. Kenma pretends not to notice that Daichi’s eyes look a bit watery. He gets it – he does. The guilt, the feeling that you should be able to do something, why aren’t you able to do something, just _do it_. Even when it’s out of your hands. Even when it’s not good for you.

He thinks of his old life – of late nights rushing to complete work that had sat on his desk for weeks, of days when he couldn’t do anything but play games, of wondering when the last time he ate was, of not wanting anyone to know those things about you. Guilt, shame. Kenma knows how doing the healthy thing for yourself can still make you feel bad.

He thinks he’s starting to understand though, here at his friends’ house, with Kuroo’s fingers interlaced with his, that guilt and shame are a lot easier to manage when you’re not alone.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Kenma tries for the fifth time to tie the tie around his neck. He feels so out of his comfort zone. He’s had to dress up for meetings, presentations, dinner events before, but never has he worn something that feels so extravagant – so expensive.

He’s sure Kuroo picked it out for him.

“You look amazing.” Kuroo walks up behind Kenma, looking at him in the mirror in front of them. Kuroo looks absolutely unfair in his fitted suit. Kuroo is tall, broad, handsome. Entirely too good looking, in Kenma’s opinion. He drags his eyes across Kuroo’s body, no shame in the way his gaze lingers on the fall and cling of fabric. Kuroo looks amused, mouth pulling into a knowing smirk. “Need some help?” He points to tie around Kenma’s collar.

Kenma nods. “Yes, please.” He turns around and lets Kuroo fix him up. Watching Kuroo has always been a favourite hobby of Kenma’s, and it’s only increased in its enjoyment when he came here. “You have very nice hands.”

Kuroo looks at him with suspicion. “Hey now, don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not. How would that be making fun of you?” Kenma asks, his tone even.

“I don’t know!” Kuroo’s cheeks are turning red. “You’re being weird!”

Kenma has learned that he likes making Kuroo flustered. “They’re very pretty. Smooth. Big.” He grabs one of Kuroo’s hands and brings it to his mouth, kissing the knuckles. “I like them.” He lets go.

Kuroo clears his throat. He tugs the knot to the top of Kenma’s throat. “There. All done.”

Kenma turns around, adjusting the fit in the mirror. He says offhandedly, “Too bad there’s not more time before we have to leave.”

Kuroo groans, loud and animated, and Kenma laughs. “Kenma, why!” Kenma isn’t at all surprised when he stomps. “You do this on purpose.”

He turns and pats Kuroo with both hands on his chest. “Let’s go before you work yourself up anymore.”

“Before _you_ work me up anymore!” Kuroo calls after him.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“Kodzuken!” Miya Atsumu calls, causing Kenma to jump in surprise.

“Volume, Miya,” Sakusa grumbles from beside him. Kenma’s happy to see him alongside Atsumu – on his own, Atsumu can be a little…unruly.

“I just can’t contain my excitement, Omi.” Atsumu throws an arm around Kenma’s shoulders, jostling him as he does. “ _The_ Kodzuken.”

“We saw him a week ago.”

“Hello Atsumu, Sakusa.” There’s finally enough of a gap in the conversation for Kenma to greet them. He should never have let Kuroo leave him alone at this thing.

An older man walks up to them, leaning in to ask, “Did I hear someone say Kodzuken? Like the video game man?” Kenma feels his soul leave his body; this is _not_ happening here.

Atsumu jiggles him again. “That’s this guy right here!”

“It’s so great to meet you!” The man puts forward his hand, Kenma shakes it reluctantly. “My son is obsessed with you! He watches you all the time, never stops talking about you, really.”

“Oh.” Kenma’s sure he’s turning red. “That’s very nice. Thank you.”

“Could I get a photo? He’ll never believe me otherwise.”

“Of course!” Atsumu agrees happily. Sakusa hits him on the back of the head. “Ow, Omi.”

“He was asking Kenma.”

“I know!” Atsumu is still rubbing the back of his head. “I was offering to take the picture.” The man hands over his phone to Atsumu. Kenma does his best approximation of a smile.

“Thank you so much!” The man says, and happily leaves.

When he turns back to Atsumu and Sakusa after watching the man leave, he sees Atsumu angling his phone to take a selfie with Kenma. “I want one too – Kenma, turn.” He leans over, but doesn’t bother smiling this time. He does throw up a peace sign though, so he thinks Atsumu shouldn’t complain.

Kuroo finds Kenma again when it’s time to sit down and eat. “You survived,” he observes.

“Atsumu made sure to keep me company.”

Kuroo laughs. “I’m sorry I missed it.”

“How was it, charming the room?”

Kuroo leans in close, smiles. “You think I’m charming.”

Kenma rolls his eyes. “You seem to be in a good mood, so I’m guessing everything’s going well.”

“It is.” He relaxes back in his seat.

“Told you it would,” Kenma points out, just because he can.

“Of course.” Kuroo’s so much more relaxed. It makes Kenma exceptionally happy. “I will never doubt you again.”

The others sitting at their table take their seats one by one. Kenma’s not familiar with any of them – all being JVA workers or representatives.

“Oh, Kodzuken!” The man from earlier sits down.

Kuroo chuckles. “Kodzuken?” he mouths at Kenma.

“It’s Kozume Kenma.”

The man smiles. “Ah, of course. I’m Sato Kenji. I didn’t realise you also worked for Bouncing Ball.”

Kuroo jumps into the conversation. “He started it. I’m working as CEO, only while he finishes his degree.”

“Wow! You are certainly busy.”

Kenma finds it hard not to avoid Sato’s eyes. “I have a lot of help.” He looks at Kuroo, thinks of his friends. “It’s like volleyball. You’re as strong as the people around you.”

“Very right!” Sato smiles. “Volleyball teaches you so much about life.”

Kenma nods. He clears his throat. Small talk is the worst of all tortures. “Uh – how old is your son?”

Sato smiles again. Kenma thinks he won’t need to do much to keep the conversation going.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Kuroo leans back in the tub, pulling Kenma back against his chest, the water flowing back and forth over their skin at the shift in weight. “It feels so good to be done.”

“It was really wonderful, Kuro. You did well.”

“I did, didn’t I?” The steam from the water is already making their hair stick to their foreheads.

“What are you going to do with all your time now?”

“Absolutely nothing.”

Kenma plays with Kuroo’s hands in his. “I hope there are some things I can convince you to do.”

Kuroo’s laugh vibrates through Kenma’s back. “You can convince me to do anything, Kenma. You know that.”

“I’m starting to see that.”

“Lean forward, let me wash your back.” Kenma does. He enjoys the feeling of lathered hands working along his shoulders, down his spine. “Arms.”

“I can do the rest.”

“I know you can. But I want to.” Kuroo’s voice is deep in his ear. Kenma turns around in the space, holding out one arm, then the next, for Kuroo to wash. Kuroo washes his legs, his chest, moves gently to wash between his legs.

“Now you,” Kenma insists. Kuroo happily hands over the soap. Kenma follows Kuroo’s process, taking care of every part of Kuroo. “There. All done.” His voice is a whisper. Kuroo leans close, kisses Kenma in the soapy water.

“Let’s go to bed.”

They crawl into bed without clothing, holding close skin to skin. They don’t need to talk to know what they each want tonight. Kenma will take care of Kuroo, will get him wet and open him up. He’ll push inside and tell him how wonderful he is, how good he’s doing. He’ll get lost in the feeling, mumbling out how much he loves him, how much he’s always loved him. He’ll take every piece of Kuroo apart and hold it tenderly. He’ll kiss away the sweat and exertion, smooth out the tension and strain until Kuroo is soft and pliable under him.

He’ll love Kuroo wholly and steadily as long as he can.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Kenma spends a quiet hour watching Kuroo sleep. There’s an itch in his bones that tells him tonight he has to be ready to say goodbye. His heart aches with it. If he has to leave tonight, then he’ll stay up as late as possible, squeeze out the last moments of warmth in this home he’s made with Kuroo.

He kisses Kuroo on the forehead before he walks over to his dresser. Opening the top drawer, he pulls out as many tattered notes as he can. He walks to the small chair in the corner of the room, sweeps off the mountain of clothes that have found their way there over the busy week. He sets the piles of notes on the dresser next to him, reading them one by one.

Kuroo doesn’t write them every day, but often enough that during Kenma’s time here, he’s increased his hoard by eleven.

_I like the colour of your eyes._

_I like how you don’t cover your mouth when you laugh._

_I like your body. Every piece of your body._

He reads them all over and over.

_I like when you make fun of me._

_I like your new suit._

_I like that you believe in me. I believe in you too._

Kenma takes that one, holds it tightly in his fist, feels the corners of the torn paper make indents in his palm. He doesn’t want to cry. Everything this month has been joy and comfort. He goes back to bed, curls around Kuroo, the man he has loved since before he knew. He counts Kuroo’s breaths until he falls asleep. 


	3. Chapter 3

When Kenma’s eyes open, he’s in his office. The date has turned back. He’s wearing what he fell asleep in. He squeezes his fists closed, ready to count his breaths, when he realises he’s holding something tightly, rough edges of paper scratching his soft skin, a paper cut left behind when he opens his hand.

_I like that you believe in me. I believe in you too._

He lets himself have 24 hours to grieve the life that was never his – he calls off of work, skips classes, cancels streams. 24 hours and then he’ll move.

~

He wakes up to a new day with a drive to change. Kuroo believes in him. He goes out to a stationery store, buys an obscene number of organizational tools – post-its, a white board, a calendar.

The first thing he needs to do is settle himself back into this life. Then he can find Kuroo. Then he can find Kuroo and – his brain stops, hits a roadblock, and cycles in place. He wants everything with Kuroo. It seems dangerous – to want so much, not knowing if you’ll get it. 

He goes into his streaming room – puts the whiteboard and calendar up on the wall next to one another. He starts by writing down all of the things he’s expected to do on the calendar, writing out time lines and schedules.

Kozume Kenma: University Student, Stock Trader, Pro-gamer, YouTuber, Bouncing Ball Corp CEO.

He twirls a dry erase marker around his finger. Guilt, shame, balance, support. He’s learned a lot about himself and his relationships with people around him. There are a few things he can’t get around here, not yet.

He writes on a post-it: _text Sugawara_

He’d paid attention to the stock market while away, so he plans to check the first week or so, but if things follow the same pattern here as they did in the other world, then he’ll be able to make a good profit this month and back off after that. He pulls a few more post-its off the stack, sticking them to the whiteboard and writing down which stocks he should buy and sell, and when.

He looks at his calendar; the number of streams and videos he produces is daunting. Here he doesn’t have Kuroo to help him with Bouncing Ball, here he’ll need to cut back in other ways. He frowns. Guilt, shame, balance, support. He pulls out his phone, bringing up twitter.

**World Famous Kodzuken @KodzukenGaming**

_Hello everyone. As some of you know, I am currently completing my university degree. In order to complete it to the best of my ability I will have to scale back the number of streams and videos I do for the rest of the year. I hope you continue to support me as I work hard! Stay tuned for an updated schedule._

He hits send and waits for the wave of nausea to hit him. It’s always there in the pit of his stomach, any time he feels like he’s letting someone down. He shakes his head. This is what he needs. People will understand, people care about him.

He sits down at his laptop, opens up a document, and types up everything he remembers Kuroo telling him about the charity project. Location, attendees, auction items, names of people at the JVA who he worked with.

Kuroo works for the JVA here – Kenma can reach out to him, work on this project with him, tell him – tell him how much he’s missed him. Kenma needs to find Kuroo, needs to connect with him again. He reasons with himself, tells himself it’s not entirely selfish. It’s a good event, a good cause, and the other Kuroo had cared so much about it.

He opens up his text thread with Kuroo on his phone. The message from long ago stares at him. He scrolls up – multiple attempts to reach out from Kuroo, with few replies from Kenma. How did he miss that Kuroo was trying this hard?

His heart beats loudly – like the first time he kissed Kuroo. Anticipation, excitement, fear of rejection.

**Kenma:**

_Hello._

It’s small and maybe meaningless, but it’s him reaching out. He hits send. He places the phone face down, stands up and walks out of the room, down the hall, takes a few deep breaths before walking back. He stares at his phone from across the room. It vibrates against the table. He almost trips in his haste to get to it.

**Kuroo:**

_Hey! It’s been a while!_

_What’s up?_

What’s up? What’s…up?... _Other than realising I’m in love with you and spending the last month or so living as your husband, not much, what’s up with you?_

He’s breathing too fast again. He closes out of the conversation, starts typing a new message to Hinata.

**Kenma:**

_Hey Shouyou. Are you around to talk?_

**Hinata:**

_Kenma! Of course!_

Kenma presses _call_ before he can talk himself out of it. “Shouyou?”

“What’s wrong? You sound upset, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just needed someone to talk to.”

“You can always talk to me, you know that!”

Kenma nods. “I know.” He starts pacing the length of the room. “Actually, what’s your schedule like? Can I come visit?”

“Oh! Uh – ” He hears Hinata moving on the other end of the line.

“It’s fine – never mind.”

“No – Kenma, wait!” Hinata talks over him. “I was just going to my computer. It’s easier to see my calendar there than on my phone.”

Kenma nods and then stops, remembering that Hinata won’t be able to see him. “Okay.” He settles himself. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologise.” Hinata’s quiet for a moment as he signs into his computer. “We have afternoon practices all next week, and weight training in the evening – so any morning would work!”

“Okay – Monday?”

“Sure!”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

_“What are you doing?”_

_Kuroo looks up from the tangle of string in his hand. “What does it look like?”_

_“Are your fingers stuck?”_

_“I’m making a bracelet.” He points to his laptop. “I thought it might distract me from that thing.”_

_“Uh-huh.” Kenma eyes him, trying not to laugh._

_“Fine, you won’t get one then.” Kuroo stares at the mess, trying to unravel a blue string from the rest._

_Kenma laughs, taking it from Kuroo , helping to undo it._

_Kuroo never figures out how to really make a bracelet the way he’d seen online. Instead, he wraps a single string around Kenma’s wrist, tying it in a knot. Kenma doesn’t take it off._

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“Let me get this straight. For the last month, you have been living in an alternate universe where everything is basically the same, except you were married to Kuroo… and now you’re back as if no time passed.”

Kenma waits for Hinata to call him crazy. He nods. “Yes.”

“That’s so cool!” Hinata shouts, before flopping backward to sprawl on the sofa.

“You don’t think I’m lying?” Kenma’s eyebrows furrow.

“Huh?” Hinata cocks his head. “Why would you lie to me?”

“I wouldn’t.”

“I know. That’s why I believe you.” He says it like it’s obvious. “Besides when I hung out with Oikawa in Brazil, he taught me lots about alternate universes, different time lines, aliens. He’s really smart.”

Kenma can’t help but laugh at his friend. “You’re a really good person, Hinata.”

Hinata smiles. “How is it being back?”

Kenma sighs. “Weird. Lonely.”

“I bet.” Hinata frowns. “You miss him?”

“Mm.”

“Are you going to get him back?”

Kenma feels his heart speed up at the thought. “I’d like to. If it’s something Kuroo here would be interested in.”

“Oh, he definitely will,” Hinata says, very sure of himself.

“Why do you say that?”

“He’s liked you forever, right?” he says matter of factly. “I mean the way he looks at you! Even in high school.”

Kenma’s mind shifts to a different conversation with a different Hinata. “You said something like that there too.”

“See!” Hinata points. “I’m right! … _we’re_ right?... either way, all you have to do now is seduce him.”

Kenma sputters. “What?” He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t even know how.”

Hinata laughs. “I bet you do it without even meaning too.”

“ _Shouyou_.” Kenma pushes his face into the sofa cushion.

“When you see him just grab his face and kiss him right on the mouth! Easy peasy.”

“That’s it?” Kenma rolls his eyes.

“Yep!” Hinata explains. “It’s good to be direct about these things.”

“Is that how you are with Kageyama?”

Hinata flails about. “What do you mean? Why would I? Who? That’s ridiculous! Kage – ! What?” Kenma laughs. Hinata kicks him. “You’re mean.” Hinata pouts at him with no real heat behind it.

Kenma settles down. “Even if he only wants to be my friend here, I think that would be enough. I just miss him.”

Hinata rubs Kenma’s back. “I think it will work out. And if it doesn’t, you can come visit whenever you want!”

“Thanks, Shouyou.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Kenma has his meeting with Kuroo this morning. He stands in front of the mirror, hair pulled back, dress shirt on. He’s trying very hard to convince his brain that this isn’t a date. There’s absolutely no way anyone would consider this a date. Except he’s dressed up and heading out to see the man he’s in love with, and his heart won’t accept that that means nothing. He grabs his messenger bag and heads for the door.

In the main lobby of the office building Kuroo works at, a young woman sits working the welcome desk. He heads over to get directions. The email he’d received confirming his meeting hadn’t even been from Kuroo himself. Instead, it was from the organization, letting him know the time and place.

The woman begins typing into her computer after Kenma tells her who he is and what he’s here for. His eyes roam around the space, taking in the people milling about. He looks to the left, and that’s when he sees him.

Kuroo is still a head taller than the average person, and even though it’s only the back of him, Kenma could never forget the fall of his hair, the breadth of his shoulders. Kuroo enters the elevators to the side of the space. Turning around, he stands at the back of the group of people in the small lift. Kuroo lifts his eyes from his phone. He makes eye contact with Kenma.

Kenma almost laughs at the way and the speed at which Kuroo’s face shifts. He apparently had no idea Kenma would be here today. It’s only a moment, but Kenma can see Kuroo try to move, to push his way back out of the tightly knit group of people. As the doors close, he hears the unmistakable sound of Kuroo Tetsurou shouting _Kenma_.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Kenma makes his way to the offices where Kuroo works. He’s pointed to a boardroom right by reception, told to sit, and that Kuroo will be right with him. He smiles, nods gratefully.

He’s surprised Kuroo didn’t make it up here first, but guesses it gives Kenma time to pull out his proposal, set up his laptop. He’s almost calmed himself down when once again he hears Kuroo’s voice.

It’s been so long since he’s heard it – a month or so since his time in the glimpse, and even longer in this world. It feels Pavlovian – like he hears Kuroo’s voice and automatically his skin begins to tingle, his heart begins to race. He’s missed him so desperately this past month as he’s gotten his life in working order. He wants to be ready for Kuroo, for whatever they’ll be.

It’s like all the wanting and longing he’d not let himself feel before the glimpse has been pounding down on him in waves since his return. Kuroo Tetsurou is a tide he wants to be washed away with.

Kenma still can’t see him as Kuroo stands on the other side of the door talking to the receptionist. “Can you cancel my 9 o’clock meeting?” He sounds a bit delirious. Kenma itches to go and soothe whatever is bothering him. “I saw someone very important downstairs, and I just – I need to go find him, so, can you call whoever it is and reschedule?”

“I’m sorry. He’s already here.”

There’s a long pause, and then Kenma hears Kuroo push the door open. “Hello, sorry is there any way we can – ” Kuroo starts talking before he fully makes it into the room. He stops himself. “Kenma?”

“Hello.” Kenma stands. Should he shake his hand? Hug him? Just say fuck it all and confess?

Kuroo freezes, shakes his head, and takes a few steps out of the room, then comes back in. “Nope, you’re still you.” His face breaks into a large smile. “Kenma.” Kuroo takes the decision into his own hands, reaching forward and giving Kenma a hug. “How are you?”

Kenma takes his chance to push his face against Kuroo’s chest and breathe deeply while in Kuroo’s arms. “I’m good. It’s nice to see you.” He thinks they’re holding onto each other longer than is necessary, but Kenma doesn’t want to be the one to pull away.

Kuroo seems reluctant as he lets him go. He sits down across the table from Kenma, grinning wide. “What are you doing here?”

“We have a meeting.”

“Oh.” It’s like Kuroo has completely forgotten he’s at work. Kenma is unbelievably charmed by this man. “Really?”

Kenma laughs at that. He hands over the folder containing a printed copy of his proposal. “Really.”

“Wow.” Kuroo reads through the front page – an abstract summing up the general goals of the project.

“It could make a difference.” Kenma shifts in his seat. This is so much harder for him than it would be for Kuroo – selling things, captivating people, making someone care. “I think…we could lower the net for a lot of kids.”

Kuroo looks up from the papers and smiles softly. “This looks great, Kenma.”

Kenma flushes at the praise. “Thank you.” He goes to sweep his hair back before he remembers that it’s already tied up. He squeezes his hands into fists instead, releases them slowly. “Do you think the JVA would be interested?”

_Please say yes. Please give me a reason to see you._

“I’ll have to run it by a few people – Sato, Hanai – but I really think this could be something.”

Kenma’s shoulders relax, more tension than he realises he was carrying leaves his shoulders. He stops. “Sato Kenji?” Kuroo looks surprised. He nods. Kenma smiles. “Ah, I’ve heard his son watches my streams.”

“Who did you hear that from?”

Kenma ignores the question. “So, if he needs convincing…”

“I can name drop you?” Kuroo’s smirking. “Wow, the world famous Kodzuken, sitting here with me.”

Kenma rolls his eyes. “Idiot.”

Kuroo laughs. “You look good, Kenma.” Kuroo’s voice is so soft when he says it, Kenma’s heart stumbles. He wants to argue. He wants to say he doesn’t. He wants to say if he does it’s only because Kuroo took care of him.

His voice is quiet. “You do too.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

_“You move a lot when you sleep,” Kenma says one morning._

_“Hmm?” Kuroo looks up as he drinks his coffee._

_“You hit me in the face last night, I think I might bruise.”_

_“I don’t move!”_

_“You do.” Kenma laughs as he steals Kuroo’s mug away from him, taking a large gulp of lukewarm coffee. “Ugh, this is cold.”_

_“I think it’s the perfect temperature.”_

_“If you’re an idiot.”_

_“At least it’ll stop you from drinking my coffee.”_

_Kenma stands behind Kuroo, his arms circling Kuroo’s stomach, head resting on Kuroo’s shoulder. “Make me some coffee.” He raises head so his lips graze against Kuroo’s ear. “Please.”_

_Kuroo rolls his eyes. “You’re lucky I like you.”_

_Kenma silently agrees. He really, really is._

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Kenma comes into the boardroom carrying two cups of coffee. Kuroo is already there, his suit jacket off, sleeves rolled up to the crook in his elbow. He’s typing on his laptop when Kenma enters. “I brought coffee,” Kenma announces to the room.

Kuroo looks up, smiles at him. It’s the same smile as the other Kuroo, the same look of simple pleasure at being together. Kenma has to look away. “Ah, Kenma, you’re a hero.”

There’s no real reason they meet every week to work on the auction event. They could easily coordinate via email. Kenma’s sure that’s how Kuroo in the glimpse had worked. Neither of them mention this fact, instead, they have meeting after meeting together in the small boardroom of Kuroo’s office.

“What are you working on?”

“List of who to invite.”

Kenma’s been giving his suggestions out slowly, letting the time he works on this project with Kuroo stretch out. It could probably be completed much faster than it’s going, considering he’s lived through the final event already. Kenma’s only human though, and the temptation to spend another day with Kuroo, another hour, is too much for him to push away.

“I have a few more ideas for auction items.” Kenma opens up his laptop, pulling up the document. “I thought we could have a few items unrelated to volleyball. Invite some artists and artisans to make pieces.” He emails Kuroo the list of people, and at the top is _Sawamura Daichi_.

He hears the ping of Kuroo’s laptop indicating he got the email. Kuroo smiles at Kenma. “This is a great idea, Kenma.” Kenma nods. He’ll let Kuroo reach out. He knows the friendship between Daichi and Kuroo is an odd but important one.

Kuroo lets out a long and low groan after he takes a sip from his cup. “Coffee is so _good_ ,” he whines in satisfaction. Kenma knows he’s staring but he can’t seem to jump start his brain. Kuroo sounds indecent – he _has_ to know what kind of noises he’s making. Absolutely inconsiderate to those around him. Those around him meaning just Kenma. Kenma licks his lips.

“Do you have time to go for lunch after this?” Kuroo’s voice finally breaks Kenma’s trance.

He feels himself flush all the way to his ears. He’s glad he wore his hair down today. “Yeah, sure.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

They’re halfway through their meal when Kuroo finally brings it up. “So.” He looks nervous. “What changed?”

Kenma pretends not to know what he’s talking about – isn’t sure if he’s ready to explain himself. “What do you mean?”

Kuroo keeps his eyes on his food. He’s letting the conversation stay as casual as possible, even though Kenma knows he’s dying to get answers. Kuroo has always been more concerned about Kenma’s comfort than his own. “Not that I was mad at you or anything, but I hadn’t really seen you for almost a year. Now we’re texting again. I see you every week at work.”

He owes it to Kuroo to at least try. “I want to be healthier – happier. To let myself have the things that I need to be.” He decides to be brave. “Kuro.” He waits until Kuroo looks up. “It was never you. The reason I stopped texting. I was overwhelmed in a lot of ways.”

Kuroo’s hand quickly moves up to wipe at his face. Kenma’s heart breaks. “I know.” Kuroo’s voice is shaking. “I just don’t know why you didn’t let me help you.”

Kenma’s mouth opens and closes. “I don’t know either.”

Kuroo’s serious when he asks, “You’re doing better now, though?” His eyes search Kenma’s face like he’s desperate to find the truth – to see Kenma and know he’s okay.

Kenma smiles. “I am.” Kuroo’s hands are curled into fists on the top of the table. Kenma reaches out, places his fingers over Kuroo’s hands. “I’m sorry.”

Kuroo gives him a watery but genuinely happy smile. “You don’t have to say sorry. I just wish I could have made it easier.”

“You did. You are.” He squeezes Kuroo’s hands in his.

“Ugh, look at me,” Kuroo huffs, straightening up. “What a sap.” He runs his hands over his face.

“We already knew that though.”

“Hey now.” Kuroo points a finger.

“You’re the one that missed me.” Kenma shrugs. “Did you forget what I was like?”

“How could I ever forget you, Kenma?” Kenma thinks Kuroo means it as a joke, means to continue their repartee. There’s something though – something that sits in the base of Kenma’s spine, in the nerves of Kenma’s fingers, something that feels like hope. Maybe…maybe he’ll get to have this here, too.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“Do you think we should make it a silent auction, or a shout out numbers auction?” Kuroo’s slouching so far down in his chair Kenma wonders how he’s not fallen off.

“Isn’t it just called an auction if it’s not the silent kind?”

“Why does it get to be an auction, and the silent auction has to have the qualifier?” Kuroo’s hair is even more wild than usual, the late hour taking its toll. “It’s big shouting.” Kuroo laughs to himself. Kenma doesn’t indulge him. Kuroo looks affronted. “You know, big shouting, like big oil – it’s a lobbying joke and it was great.”

“I’d argue it’s not even a joke, let alone a great one.”

“Meanie.” He sticks out his tongue. “Maybe I’m tired.” He looks at his watch. “Should we be done for the night?”

“Probably.” Kenma starts to save all of the changes on his open documents. “I have class in the morning anyway.”

“Kenma!” Kuroo shouts.

“What?” Kenma jumps. “What happened?”

“You didn’t tell me you had morning classes! We could have been finished earlier!”

Kenma shrugs. “I don’t mind.” _I didn’t want to leave you._ “I had to eat dinner anyway, so.”

“I guess that’s true.” Kuroo pouts. Past a certain time, Kuroo becomes more and more like the 8-year-old Kenma first met. Kuroo pulls his phone out of his pockets when it starts to ring. He clears his throat. “Sorry. I need to take this.”

Kenma nods, expecting Kuroo to answer the phone in the room. Instead, he stands up and walks out. Kenma should have sat and waited for his friend to return, given him his privacy. He intended to. But Kuroo was gone five minutes, then ten. He just wanted to check that everything was alright. He finds Kuroo at his cubicle, sitting facing away from Kenma.

“I said I’m sorry.” Kuroo’s voice is tense. “I didn’t think I’d be this late. I lost track of time.” His left hand is hanging off of the chair’s arm rest. Kenma watches him crack each knuckle, one by one. “I promise it won’t happen again.” His voice drops. “And I’ll make it up to you when I get to your apartment.” Kenma’s spine tingles at the tone, at the way it plays back a handful of memories he’s not supposed to have. It sticks him to the ground in time for Kuroo to turn, to see him standing there. “Kenma.”

“You were taking a while.” He pushes his hands deep into his pockets. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, just a miscommunication.” Kuroo holds up his phone like it will help him explain. “I forgot to tell my girlfriend I was going to be late.”

Kenma nods. The silence between them stretches. Kuroo looks like he wants to say something. Kenma doesn’t think he’s ready to hear whatever it is. “You better get home then.” He keeps his head up as turns, walking quickly to pack his bag and leave.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“Hello, everyone. Thank you for joining in to watch today.” Kenma watches as the counter displaying the number of viewers rises. He checks the video is synced, that the volume is correct. “I’ve been feeling nostalgic lately and want to play some Tekken.”

He opens up Tekken 4. “I played this game a lot when I was younger.” He slides over the character select screen. “Let’s pick Kuma today. He’s cute.”

He starts up the game play, taking moments between rounds to check the chat and answer any questions that catch his eye. “Hmm, yes, I’d say I’ve always been pretty good at games.” The next round starts up and he continues talking. “Though when I was younger, I only ever played against my neighbourhood friend, so maybe he was just bad.”

He sees the screen on his phone light up, letting him know he’s received a text. He’ll check it at the next break in gameplay. “It’s fun playing old games,” he muses. “Your body still remembers the combos and stages before your brain does.” He smiles. “I guess it holds on to important information like that.”

His eyes dart to the side of the screen to read. “Ah, yes, I agree. It would be nice if we didn’t have to study and our bodies just remembered school work like that too.” The chat fills with messages then, wishing him well on his studying, telling him they’re cheering for him. He’s sure his cheeks are reddening. “You guys are really kind. I’m doing my best.”

He sets the controller down, taking a drink of water. Checking his phone, he sees missed messages from Kuroo.

**Kuroo:**

_I wasn’t that bad!_

_You’ve always just been freakishly good._

He smiles at his phone. The chat notices – questions about what he’s reading pop up, again and again. He ignores them for now.

“Let’s keep playing.” He feels warmth flow through his veins knowing Kuroo is watching. He wonders if Kuroo always watches – has been watching all that time that they didn’t speak. “There was one boy down the street from me who I made play games with me all the time.”

The chat erupts, teasing Kenma that he must have broken his friend’s spirit by having to play with Kenma growing up. “I wasn’t that mean. I let him win sometimes.”

His phone lights up again.

“Or I set myself handicaps – depending on the game, it would change – I couldn’t attack him until he’d landed 3 successful hits, I didn’t let myself pass his character until the last lap, I limited the amount of ammo I would let myself use.” He wins another round on screen. “That made games a lot closer.”

**Kuroo:**

_No way! I totally beat you, I swear!_

_Oh, well, maybe you did that, though._

_Actually… that makes a lot of sense._

He laughs at his phone and the chat blows up again. “He shouldn’t feel too bad though; he was better than me at a lot of other things.”

**Kuroo:**

_That’s a lie._

_You’re amazing at a ton of stuff, Kenma._

Kenma doesn’t talk about Kuroo for the rest of the stream. Instead, he focuses on the game – taking suggestions from the chat about who to play as, and who to play against. He answers more questions, this time primarily about school and how his changed schedule has helped him.

His fans comment on how much more talkative he’s been these past weeks – how the time off has made his streams even more fun to watch. It’s shouldn’t be surprising, Kenma has enjoyed streaming more recently than he can remember.

When he signs off, says his goodbyes and closes the video, he sees one last text from Kuroo.

**Kuroo:**

_Is it weird I miss you kicking my ass at games?_

Kenma feels his finger tips tingle as he types back. He should let it drop, should be careful with his expectations, his hope. Kuroo has found someone else to be happy with here. Though as Kenma has rediscovered, he finds it hard to curb his appetite when it comes to Kuroo.

**Kenma:**

_Come over and play, then._

**Kuroo:**

_When are you free?_

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Kuroo shows up to Kenma’s house with a 6 pack of beer. “Hello,” he says holding it up and smiling.

“Did you want to play in the living room or gaming room?” Kenma leads him into the house.

“Either works for me.” Kenma is sure that Kuroo’s walking with a skip in his step, for some reason. It’s not at all charming. “I should put these in the fridge, though,” Kuroo suggests.

“Right.” Kenma walks to the kitchen. “Did you want to order in food?” He pulls out his phone. “Or we could probably cook something, but I have no idea what I have.”

“Kozume Kenma? Not knowing what he has in his own fridge?” Kuroo puts his hand to his chest. “How odd!”

“Don’t be an asshole.”

“I would never.” Kuroo goes through the cabinets, checks out the fridge. “There’s actually more than I was expecting.” Kuroo looks at him with a quiet pride and Kenma tries not to swell with the praise.

“So, what do you want?” Kenma leans back on the counter.

Kuroo walks over to him, stands right in front of him. Kenma has to raise his chin to meet his eyes. “You know I’m always good with whatever you want.”

Kenma swallows. _Be careful. You don’t know what you’re offering._ “Okay.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“I would like the record to show that I won two, count it, _two_ of those rounds, fair and square.” Kuroo is pointing at the TV with his beer bottle.

“You did.” Kenma’s laughing with him. “I’ll be sure to tell my audience.”

“You’d better!” Kuroo shouts. “I’ll be watching, so make sure you do!”

“Do you do that often?” Kenma asks. He’s feeling floaty – happy and buzzy with the alcohol.

“What’s that?”

“Watch me?” Kenma says it and his cheeks heat. It shouldn’t make his breathing speed up, not really. Except he can’t help but remember Kuroo’s eyes on him as he came, his voice soft in his ear saying things like _yes_ and _fuck_ and _love_. He blinks away the thought. “Watch my streams.”

Kuroo leans across the sofa, close to him. “Never missed a stream,” he says proudly.

“Why?”

“Because…” Kuroo’s even closer now. Kenma can smell the alcohol on his breath, knows that the smallest movement would let them close the gap. Kenma’s eyes move to Kuroo’s mouth as he talks. “You’re a very good gamer.”

Kuroo’s phone rings loudly between them. Kenma jumps away. It isn’t fair. Kuroo is _his_. Kenma can’t just realise how much he wants him and have it taken away. He wants to stomp his feet, pull Kuroo close and keep him for himself.

“I should go...” Kuroo says. He’s standing now, looking for his jacket. “…Right?”

Kenma looks up, nods. “Right.” Kuroo isn’t his, no matter how much he wants him to be. He doesn’t get to have him just because he loves him most. “See you at work.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

_"I don't want to get up," Kenma grumbles, face full of his pillow.  
  
"Come on. Up and dressed. We have things to do today."  
  
"But it's cold outside. And there are people out there." Kenma turns on his side to look up at a bemused Kuroo. "And it's warm in here. And it's only us."  
  
"Those are all very good points."  
  
"I like when it's only us." Kenma reaches out toward Kuroo, hooking his hand in the front pocket of Kuroo’s trousers, reeling him in.  
  
"It is the best number of people, I'll agree."   
  
"Let's just stay here today."_

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

**Kuroo:**

_I woke up feeling like shit._

_We’re going to have to skip today’s meeting._

Kuroo’s messages sit on Kenma’s phone as he readjusts the plastic bag on his wrist. It contains everything he’ll need to make rice porridge and ginger tea. He also brought two types of cold medicine, throat lozenges, and pain killers just in case. Kuroo’s texts weren’t very specific, so he figures it’s best to be prepared for anything. He knocks on the door.

Kuroo barely opens the door, peeks his head through a crack. “You shouldn’t be here. I’m going to get you sick.” He sounds awful and congested, looks even worse.

Kenma pushes the door open the rest of the way, easily overpowering Kuroo. “It’s fine.” He makes his way through the apartment toward the kitchen. “It’s not like I’m going to kiss you.”

Kuroo groans as he follows. “You have no self-preservation instincts.” He points an angry finger at Kenma. Kenma has to agree. He’s thrown them all away and he doesn’t think he could get them back if he wanted to – and he doesn’t want to. Even though every piece of him knows staying close to Kuroo is like pushing on a bruise. He guesses he’ll have to learn to like the ache.

Kenma starts washing the rice. “Have you been able to eat anything today?”

“I haven’t tried.” Kuroo slumps on a chair next to the kitchen table. His eyes are closed. “Fell back asleep after I texted you.”

Kenma gets an earthenware pot out of the cupboard and busies himself, easy and familiar in the space. “Go lie down.”

“Don’t want to.” Kuroo’s voice is slurring in his sleepy state. Kenma wants to run his hands through his hair, settle it on his head. “I’d be a bad host.”

Kenma _tsks_. “You’re already sick, how much worse can you do as a host?”

“See, Kenma! That’s why you shouldn’t be here.”

“Or you can just act like we’ve known each other for over a decade and stop being weird.” He settles his hand on Kuroo’s arm, pulls gently. “The rice has to sit for half an hour anyway. At least lay in the living room.” He huffs. “Like you’d have to host me by this point.”

Kuroo follows him easily after that. Kenma gets him to sit on the sofa and Kuroo immediately leans his head back on the couch, eyes closing once again. Kenma leaves the room, grabbing a pillow and blanket. “Here, lay down.” He helps to lift Kuroo’s head, sliding the pillow underneath. He drapes the blanket over Kuroo and tucks it in around Kuroo’s sides.

Kuroo’s eyes stay closed the whole time, his body heavy. Kenma can’t tell if he’s still awake or not. When Kenma goes to move away, Kuroo’s hand comes out, grabbing his wrist gently. “Thank you, Kenma.” The words run together in his half-asleep state. Kenma does it now, pushes his fingers through the hair that always seems to fall over Kuroo’s forehead. He rubs his thumb along the curve of Kuroo’s brow.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“Porridge is done.” Kenma keeps his voice quiet. “See if you can eat anything.”

Kuroo sits up, squinting at Kenma, then away. “You _are_ here.”

Kenma nods. He hands over the bowl. “There’s tea too.” He points to the table next to the sofa. “You have to finish both.”

Kuroo lets a smile bend across half his face. “Yes, sir.”

Kenma settles himself on the sofa, far enough away that the itch to reach out and touch Kuroo settles. He pulls out his phone, playing the first game he sees, and waits for Kuroo to finish eating. “Shouldn’t your girlfriend be taking care of you?” Kenma’s voice sounds off. He’d meant it to sound teasing but it feels too much like jealousy.

“Ah, well.” Kuroo takes a drink from his mug. “We broke up.”

Kenma blinks slowly as he thinks. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He’s not. “Getting dumped is hard.”

“I broke up with her, actually.” Kuroo watches Kenma closely when he says it.

“Oh.” Kenma wasn’t expecting this. “When did that happen?”

“Last week – Sunday.” Kuroo drinks again. “Thank you for taking care of me.” He has the blanket pulled over his shoulders.

“It’s not a big deal.” Kenma shrugs. “I had the time anyway.”

Kuroo’s smiling at him again with sleep hazy eyes. “Mmhmm.”

Kuroo is single. Kuroo broke up with his girlfriend the day after they almost kissed, and is single. Kuroo, who Kenma is still very much in love with, broke up with his girlfriend the day after they almost kissed and is single. “You should sleep more when you’re done eating.”

Kuroo sets the now empty bowl and mug back on the side table. He lies back down, his feet coming to rest next to Kenma’s thighs. Kenma huffs. “It’s fine, you can put them on my lap.”

“Thanks.” Kuroo already sounds half asleep. He stretches out.

“You’re so long.” Kenma runs a hand up and down Kuroo’s calf.

“That’s me.” Kuroo’s still smiling, eyes closed. Kenma lets himself smile along with him. No one needs to know.


	4. Chapter 4

Kenma and Sugawara sit in front of the TV, Overcooked 2 launching on his Switch. “I’ve never played this game before,” Sugawara says from beside him.

“I think you’ll like it,” Kenma assures, getting them both set up. They click through the instructions.

“Daichi’s excited about what he’s making for the auction,” Sugawara says as they begin cooking fish and chicken. “He’s already done a few sketches. I think it’ll be really great.”

“I’m sure it will be,” Kenma agrees easily.

They’re quiet for while, focusing on the game. “So, are we going to talk about Kuroo, or not?” Sugawara asks, after they three-star the third level.

“Talk about Kuroo?”

“Daichi says he broke up with his girlfriend.” They start making sushi onscreen. “Did he tell you?”

Kenma nods. “It came up in conversation.”

“And was that conversation: _Kenma, I’m single_. _Oh, Kuro, that’s wonderful, let’s kiss.”_ Sugawara pitches his voice to impersonate each of them, making kissy noises at the end.

“Not quite.”

“Why not?”

Kenma shrugs up a shoulder. “He was very sick.”

“A little cold never killed anyone.”

“I’m sure it has.”

“You’re young and spry, you’d have the power of love protecting you!”

“I didn’t know love had an effect on the immune system.”

“It’s okay to not know things, Kenma.” Sugawara pats him on the back as they wait to begin the fifth level. “That’s why you have wise friends to help you.”

“He’s not going anywhere.” Kenma chooses his words slowly. “I don’t need to rush into anything.”

“Rush in!” Sugawara flicks his controller. Kenma is glad he has the wrist strap on. “Rush in, he says! As if the entire volleyball circuit hasn’t been waiting _years_ for this to happen!”

“I’m sure it isn’t the entire – ” Kenma starts to say but Sugawara cuts him off.

“It is.” He restarts the level. “I’ll go on the hot air balloon – you stay with the pots.” Sugawara instructs and Kenma laughs. Didn’t even make it through the first world before Sugawara is ordering him around. “And make sure you listen when I call out the orders. Two pastas to start.”

“There’s only one recipe this level.”

“Then it should be easy to beat!”

“I disappeared for a while.” Kenma waits for Sugawara to throw over some pasta and tomatoes. “I don’t know if I…I don’t know if Kuroo would want to date me right now.”

“Of course he would!” Sugawara shouts. “Two more pastas. You’re not in the same place as before anyway.” He hops in his seat. “WE NEED PLATES.”

“Then wash them.”

“I’m sure he understands what happened.” Sugawara throws the clean dishes at Kenma who plates the food. “And he definitely forgives you.”

Kenma’s doesn’t doubt that. Still, he thinks he should wait, give them time to settle into the possibility. Even though Kenma desperately wants to touch Kuroo again, hold him again, kiss him again. He’ll do it. He’ll wait. He just needs a little self control.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Kuroo’s already in the room when Kenma gets to the office. He looks up and smiles. “Hey – ”

Kuroo’s voice rings out and Kenma can’t stop himself. It’s Pavlovian. Before Kuroo can finish whatever sentence he was about to say, Kenma interrupts him. “Go out with me. On a date.” He swallows. “Would you like to go out on a date with me?” He can hear his heartbeat in his ears.

“Okay.”

“Good.” He walks out, gets 20 steps away before he turns around and goes back into the office. “We have work to do.”

Kuroo’s very amused. “We do.”

Kenma puts his bag down, pulling out his work things. “I can’t leave yet because I have work to do.” He doesn’t look up at Kuroo but can tell he’s still being watched.

“You’re really very cute, did you know that?” Kuroo’s still looking at him, still smiling. Kenma feels every bit of him heat up.

“Shut up.” He makes purposeful key strokes on his laptop. “I’m trying to work. Don’t be inappropriate.” Kuroo chuckles then gets back to his own work. Kenma vibrates in his skin. Impulsivity is not usually Kenma’s approach. He thinks, he weighs all aspects. When he found out Kuroo was with someone, every other possibility disappeared. His chance with Kuroo had been taken away before they were even able to try. As soon as he saw Kuroo this morning, he realised he wasn’t willing to let it happen again.

Maybe he should have been shrewd, cautious, taken his time with something so important. Or maybe this is the thing he should have done all along. Like in the glimpse, a kiss given without thought. This is him running head first into the crashing waters of Kuroo Tetsurou.

It takes a full hour for Kenma to admit he hasn’t gotten anything of value done. And he already knows how the entire auction will go. _Thanks Glimpse!_ Turns out time spent in an alternate universe is no match for the distraction that is Kuroo Tetsurou. Kuroo Tetsurou who is chewing on the end of a pen despite _not even writing anything down_. He has a computer! Why would he need a pen! Kenma _tsks_.

Kuroo’s eyes look up to him. “Everything okay?”

“Yes,” Kenma says quickly. “Just cleaning out some spam mail – so annoying.”

Kuroo doesn’t seem to be buying it; he smirks. “Right.” The abhorrent pen is sticking out of the side of his mouth, pulling at his bottom lip. “Can you look over the email I’m sending out to the prefecture reps? Check for format and spelling.”

Kenma walks around the desk, leans over Kuroo’s shoulder to read his screen. He sees the back of Kuroo’s neck turn red. Kuroo looks toward him. “Ah, I, uh…” He clears his throat. “I could have emailed it to you.”

Kenma puts a hand down on the table and continues to read slowly through the email, letting out low _mmms_ as he nods along with the content. He wants to run his finger nail across the skin of Kuroo’s neck, make it goosepimple. He turns his face toward Kuroo’s. “It looks good.”

Kuroo’s voice is hoarse. “Good.”

Kenma nods. “Good. Send it out.” When Kenma sits down, Kuroo straightens out his hair even though they both know it won’t budge – a nervous habit he’s had since middle school. It’s interesting, Kenma thinks, how easily Kuroo can go from confident and flirty to absolutely flustered. He wonders how he didn’t notice it earlier. He wonders if he’s the only one who has this effect on him. He wants it that way, wants to be the only one who gets to see Kuroo embarrassed and blushing. _Work._ Work. He has work to do.

Kuroo takes off his suit jacket. He starts folding his shirt sleeves up, adjusts the knot of his tie around his throat. He turns then, stretching and twisting his core in his seat. Kenma watches the bend and pull of muscle as he does. Watches how his shirt tightens around the breadth of his chest. Kuroo catches his eye and smiles awkwardly. Work. _Work._

Kenma resettles himself in his chair, opening his inbox to respond to emails. It’s dull work. His fingers itch to move, to do _something_. He always has a hard time focusing on tasks that feel boring. He reaches up to the bun at the base of his neck, pulling his hair loose. He runs his fingers through it a few times, resettling it in place, before he flicks and twirls a piece in his fingers. The repetitive motion makes the dull task easier.

“So…” Kuroo starts, staring at Kenma. There’s something in his eyes, dark and heated, that makes Kenma’s stomach tighten. How long as he been watching? Kuroo clears his throat. “What night are you free?”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

They decide on Wednesday night. It takes a bit of convincing to get Kuroo to agree to Kenma picking him up. Kenma argues he’s the one who did the asking, Kuroo argues he’s older. As is most often the case – Kenma gets his way.

Kenma makes the mistake of panic-calling Sugawara for advice on what to wear, which ends up with him in a pair of jeans he would have otherwise said were too small. At least Sugawara said a sweater was fine – nice and large and comfortable, the neck stretched out from wear.

He buzzes up to Kuroo’s apartment, knocks on his door. There’s an excitement floating through him, a tingle down his spine and in his fingertips. Kuroo opens the door. “Hi.” His smile is so large it spreads easily to Kenma’s own face. Kuroo’s cheeks are already a happy shade of pink. He looks effortlessly handsome as always. Kenma’s heart thumps loudly, remembering that he’s allowed to look, that Kuroo, at least for right now, is his to want.

“Ready to go?” Kenma asks.

Kuroo locks the door behind him. “Let’s go.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“That’s not how evolution works,” Kuroo’s saying.

Kenma can tell he’s getting annoyed. He bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “Why not, if mutations are random?”

“Because the external pressures _aren’t_ ,” Kuroo huffs.

“You’re going to argue there’d be no benefit to having a sixth finger on each hand?” Kenma runs his own fingers along his collar bones, exposed from the low swoop of his sweater. He figures Sugawara was probably onto something, considering the number of times Kenma has caught Kuroo’s eyes darting to the exposed skin.

Kuroo is distracted once again before he catches himself with start. “Why would you even need one! _You_ only need your thumbs to game!”

“It’s like you don’t even know how PC gaming works.”

“At least I know how evolution works!” Kuroo’s hands are gesturing wildly as he argues. Kenma finally breaks, smiling and letting small bouts of laughter out. Kuroo stills immediately. “You’re making fun of me.”

“Not making fun,” Kenma hums. “Just having fun.”

“You’re an absolute menace, Kozume Kenma.” Kuroo shakes his head. “Just a brat, really.”

Kenma smiles. “What would we even do with a sixth finger?”

“Type faster, maybe?” Kuroo wonders.

“If there’s ever a robotic uprising by Mavis Beacon Teaches Typing then it’ll be survival of the fittest,” Kenma muses and Kuroo laughs out loud. Kenma feels a wave of warmth pool in his belly. Kuroo’s laughter is like coming home. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

He brings Kuroo back to his apartment, walks him to his doorstep. Kuroo turns toward him, and there’s a redness to his cheeks. “This was really nice.”

Kenma smiles. “I had a good time.”

“Uh, would you want to do it again?” Kuroo asks, like he’s unsure.

“Yes, I’d like to go out with you again,” Kenma responds clearly and directly. “And again. And again. For a long time. Exclusively.” He emphasises the last word. “If that’s something you’d be interested in.”

Kuroo’s already nodding before Kenma finishes his statement. “I’d be something interested in – I mean, yes, I am interested in that.” He’s blushing deeply now.

“So, you’re my boyfriend then?” Kenma confirms.

“Boyfriend.” Kuroo nods.

They both smile at the prospect. Kenma takes a step closer and hears Kuroo’s breath catch in his throat. He leans in, laying his hands on Kuroo’s chest, sliding them up to the nape of his neck. It’s Kuroo who closes the distance between them, circling his arms around Kenma’s waist. They finally kiss, soft and sweet.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

A few days later, Kuroo cooks Kenma dinner at his house. Kenma teases Kuroo relentlessly for keeping a dishtowel over his shoulder while he cooks. “It’s convenient! I can dry my hands easily.”

“Chef, yes, chef.”

“You’re a bully, you know that?”

“I didn’t. I thought I was your boyfriend.” Kenma walks up to him, pouts until Kuroo leans forward and kisses him.

“You’re going to use that to get out of everything now, aren’t you?”

“Oh, definitely.”

“Brat.”

Kenma smiles at him. “Want me to set the table?”

“Please.” Kuroo turns back to the stove stirring. “Food should be done soon anyway. There’s wine in the fridge. Let it sit at room temp for fifteen minutes before you pour it, or it won’t be the right temperature.”

“Pretentious.”

“If that’s how you’re going to be, then you don’t get any of my pretentious wine.”

Kenma pouts again. “Now who’s mean?”

“Still you.” Kuroo laughs when Kenma’s slouches down further. He leans forward, kissing him again. “Fine, you can have the whole bottle if you want, now go set the table.”

Kenma salutes. “Yes, chef.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“I’ll figure it out once we get to the stop.” They’re sitting next to each other on the subway train. It’s so similar to how they would have been in high school, waiting next to each other stop after stop.

“Then figure it out when we get to the stop,” Kuroo says, playfully petulant. Kenma rolls his eyes. He places his hand down between them, tugs on the seam of Kuroo’s jeans. Kuroo looks down, smiling as he sets his hand on top of Kenma’s. So, some things are different.

“We’re going to the arcade?” Kenma asks, as they step out onto the street.

“Surprise!” Kuroo grabs Kenma’s hand, dragging him in the direction of the arcade. They get inside and Kuroo points across the room. “Will you play it for me?”

“What?” Kenma asks, before he follows Kuroo’s eyeline. “Absolutely not.”

“Please!” Kuroo whines. He walks toward the DDR machine. “Remember when you got the playmat at home? I think that month was the best shape you’ve ever been in.”

“And the reason I got the playmat was so I never had to play it in public.” Kuroo stands in front of him, smiles with the biggest and softest eyes he can muster. “Ugh,” Kenma groans. Why is he so absolutely helpless against Kuroo? “Fine!” He marches over, an exaggerated frown on his face.

“You can just play an easy song. It won’t be so bad,” Kuroo comforts him.

Kenma looks at him for a long moment. “Do you even know me?” He starts the machine, quickly scrolling to Endymion. He leans back, resting his hands on the bar behind him, getting ready to play. Kenma’s legs move faster than they have in years. Thanks to muscle memory, he does okay. He’s wildly out of breath by the end, and the group of people that had gathered to watch clap for him as he finishes with a respectable, but not outstanding, score.

Kuroo takes his hand as Kenma steps off the platform. “That. Was. Amazing.” Kuroo is grinning at him.

“You make no sense to me sometimes.” Kenma tilts his head as he tries to figure Kuroo out. Kuroo forces out a laugh, and looks away. Kuroo follows Kenma around from game to game. He holds Kenma’s jacket, pays for Kenma’s games. At the end of the day, Kenma ends up winning Kuroo a plushie from the prize area. He points out a calico cat, quickly handing it over to Kuroo. “Here.”

Kuroo’s grin sits slanted on his face. “You got this for me?”

“You like cute things,” Kenma explains.

“I really do.” The way he’s looking at Kenma makes Kenma’s cheeks flush. He wishes they were alone. He wishes he could kiss him in the middle of the crowd.

“What was all this about?” Kenma’s still trying to figure it out, scanning Kuroo’s face.

“What do you mean?”

“Today. It seems like it meant something.”

They’re walking outside, back toward the subway stop. “I’d always imagined it like this,” Kuroo says by way of explanation. Kenma waits for him to go on. Kuroo forces a laugh, tugs at his hair. “In high school,” he starts, and Kenma’s heart stutters. “I thought about taking you to an arcade.” He finally looks at Kenma. “On a date.”

“In high school?”

“In high school.” Kuroo looks embarrassed.

Kenma stops him in the middle of the sidewalk, pushes them to the side so they’re out of the way. He wraps his hands around Kuroo’s middle, rests his cheek on Kuroo’s chest. “I’m glad we finally went.”

Kuroo holds him back. “Me too.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

It’s a couple weeks later when they end up on the couch after dinner, some variety show playing on the TV that neither are paying attention to. Kenma thinks that’s expected, given that Kuroo is currently lying on top of him along the length of the couch. They’ve been exchanging kisses for the better part of twenty minutes now, and Kenma’s wondering if things are going to progress any time soon. He runs his hands down Kuroo’s back, skims his fingers along the waistband of his pants. He pushes his hips up, pulling Kuroo against him at the same time.

Kuroo pulls away, smiling. “Ah, I should go.” He stands up, puts distance between them. 

“It’s late. You can just stay here.” Kenma wraps his arms around himself to stop from reaching out. “You can sleep on the couch if you’re uncomfortable.”

It looks like Kuroo’s considering it for a moment. Kenma holds his breath. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because if I stay tonight, I won’t be able to stay on the couch.” Kuroo’s voice runs across Kenma’s skin. “I won’t be able to stop myself from following you to your room.”

“Then don’t.” Kenma walks up to him, slowly, cautiously, brings a hand to his jaw. “Stay.”

They’re both still for a long moment, Kuroo warring with something inside his own head. Finally, he gives in, leans down, kisses Kenma. It is everything Kenma hasn’t been able to scrub from his mind – a feeling of unconditional belonging taking root deep inside his bones. Kuroo’s arms circle him and every nerve in his body lights up. Kenma pushes his tongue into Kuroo’s waiting mouth.

Kuroo pulls back, his arms keeping Kenma at a distance. “Kenma.”

“What’s stopping you?”

Kuroo sighs. He rubs his hands over his face, then pushes his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I can’t be level-headed when it comes to you.” He’s smiling, but it’s a tired one, like he’s resigned to this fate. “I’ve wanted – ” He takes a deep breath. “I’ve wanted you for a very long time, Kenma.” Kenma’s heart is sore at the tone of his voice. “I made peace with it, with not ever getting to be with you. I dated other people. I loved other people, or, at least tried to…but…it’s always been you.”

“Kuro.” Kenma’s voice is low. Like he doesn’t want to scare him away.

“You make me useless, Kenma.” Kuroo shrugs. “I’m useless because of you and useless without you.”

“No, you’re not.” Kenma’s face scrunches. “I don’t understand.”

“Well, maybe not all of me. Maybe it’s just my useless heart.” He looks down, avoids Kenma’s eye. “So, I’m a bit afraid. Of what having you will be like. When I’ve been so resigned to being without.”

“But Kuro…” Kenma reaches out, pulls one of Kuroo’s hands from his pockets, holds it tight in his own. “It’s too late.” He lays Kuroo’s palm flat on his chest above his heart. He knows Kuroo can feel the _thump thump thump._ “You already have me.” Kenma laughs a bit, shrugs one shoulder. “I’m sorry it took me so long to figure it out, but I’m already yours.” Kuroo’s hand moves up to his jaw, Kenma turns his head to kiss his palm. “Will you let me show you? Show you how you’re mine too?”

Kuroo swallows. Nods. “Yeah.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Kenma sits Kuroo down in the centre of his bed. He straddles him then, kissing him deeply. Kuroo’s heartbeat is like a hummingbird beneath his hands. He licks against Kuroo’s lips, into his mouth. Kuroo’s hands rest on Kenma’s hips, fingers dipping under Kenma’s shirt, stroking against the skin at his sides.

Kuroo runs his fingers through Kenma’s hair, scrapes his fingernails along his scalp. Kenma breaks away from him, a low moan sounding out. Kuroo takes the opportunity to bite along Kenma’s jaw, his throat, sucking small bruises into his skin. Kenma can feel Kuroo relaxing, getting out of his head and letting himself feel. Kenma circles his hips down, rubbing himself against Kuroo. He continues rocking until they’re both making noises.

Kenma wants to pull every sound and feeling out of him – wants to take every piece of him apart so that only Kenma can put him back together. Kenma stands then. He removes his clothing, standing before Kuroo in just his briefs. It’s more now, knowing this is the first time Kuroo has seen him like this. His chest rises and falls with the anxiety that he won’t like what he sees. He sits back on the mattress. “Well?” He shrugs. “Worth the wait?”

“You have no idea,” Kuroo says, pulling him forward again. Kenma works on Kuroo’s belt, his fly. He tugs at the bottom of Kuroo’s shirt until he can pull it up and over Kuroo’s head.

It takes some time for him to fully register it. Kuroo is here, with him, naked, in his bed. His voice catches. “Tetsurou.” He kisses him again, Kuroo’s exposed cock catching on the front of Kenma’s briefs as he goes back to rutting atop Kuroo’s lap. Kenma can feel wetness begin to soak the material that separates them.

“Can I see you?” Kuroo’s staring at his lap. “All of you?”

“Yes,” Kenma says. “But not yet.” Kenma moves down Kuroo’s body. He settles himself between Kuroo’s legs. Kenma is overwhelmed by the amount of skin he’s allowed to see, allowed to touch. He doesn’t think he’ll ever acclimate to the expanse of Kuroo’s body, thinks he’ll always hunger to explore more, map out every slope and hollow.

He moves the pads of his fingers down Kuroo’s side, fingers stroking the spaces between his ribs. Kuroo’s stomach tenses at the sensation, Kenma feels the muscles move beneath his skin. He continues the path, along Kuroo’s hip bone to the crease of his thigh. Kenma leans forward and kisses at the bend of Kuroo’s hip, drags his teeth along the soft skin. Kuroo’s cock lays hard and swollen just to the side of Kenma’s attention. Kuroo whines loudly. Kenma ignores the complaint, repeating the kiss on Kuroo’s other side.

Kuroo pushes his hips forward, asking again for what he wants without words. Kenma turns his head and licks a thick stripe along the length of Kuroo’s cock. Kuroo’s muscles tighten at the stimulation, a soft _yes_ leaving his lips as he finally gets what he’s waiting for. Kenma licks again and again, before taking the head in his mouth and sucking on it. He keeps his hands on Kuroo’s hips, fingers denting the skin there.

He moves his head up and down, small bobs, adjusting his mouth to the weight and stretch of Kuroo’s cock inside him. The soft silk of skin slides along his tongue as salty precome mixes with his own spit. Kuroo’s breathing is loud and uneven above him, mixing with deep groans every time Kenma moves his head particularly far down toward the base.

Kenma pulls off, lets a long string of spit fall down the length of Kuroo’s cock. He curls his hand around the base, squeezes softly. “Would you let me fuck you?” He wants it. He wants the warm friction of pushing deep inside Kuroo. He’d probably beg for it if Kuroo wanted him to. 

Kuroo looks down at him. His hair is even messier than usual, like Kuroo had been pulling at it instead of pulling at Kenma’s. “Yeah, yes. Please.” Kenma responds by leaning back down and licking another stripe down to the base before taking Kuroo into his mouth again. Kenma’s other hand presses down on his own cock, hard and wanting. He moans along the length of cock in his mouth as he pushes against his own hand.

Kenma’s mouth continues to work as one hand moves to the space behind Kuroo’s balls. He lets his fingers stroke the flesh, run along the circle of muscle there, pressing lightly against it. Kenma lets the head of Kuroo’s cock pop out of his mouth. He wipes the head against the wetness covering his lips. “Have you ever?” He presses the pad of his finger against his hole. Kuroo arches. He shakes his head, a small _no_ making Kenma’s cock leak. “Okay. We’ll go slow.”

He reaches over to the bedside table, pulls out lube and a condom. He taps Kuroo on the hip. “Roll over. The prep will be easier.” Kenma grabs a pillow, places it under Kuroo’s hips. “Tell me if you want to stop.” Kuroo nods, cushioning his head on folded arms. 

Kenma smooths his hands down Kuroo’s back, curving along the dimples at the bottom, over the swell of his ass. He spreads Kuroo’s cheeks apart, looking at the flutter of the hole beneath. He warms lube in his hands, lathering Kuroo’s entire crease with it. Kuroo’s voice is strained. “That feels like a lot.”

“I like a lot,” Kenma responds easily. He adds more to the hole. He rubs in circles around the rim, massaging at the muscle. The first finger goes to the second knuckle easily. Kenma watches Kuroo’s back, his shoulders, for any sign of tension. “Keep breathing,” he reminds him, pushing in the rest of the way. He eases in and out until he feels Kuroo relax again, collecting more lube before adding another finger. “You’re doing so well for me.” Kuroo responds with whines and moans. He repeats the process, sliding in slowly, letting Kuroo’s body adjust, moving his fingers in and out.

At three fingers Kenma feels confident enough to begin really fucking Kuroo with his fingers. Kuroo’s eyes oscillate from fluttering open, trying to watch as Kenma pumps into him with his hand, and squeezing shut when the feeling becomes too much. Kenma curls his slick fingers, searching for Kuroo’s prostate. Kuroo fucks down against the mattress, almost screaming when Kenma hits it.

Kenma is relentless with his attention on the spot, rubbing it until Kuroo is shaking. Kuroo is so responsive like this, clenching tight onto Kenma’s fingers, pushing back to swallow him deeper. A new wave of arousal drives through Kenma. He wants so badly to climb on top, to fuck hard and fast into him. Kenma puts a hand in his briefs, squeezing at the base of his cock to calm himself down.

Kenma pushes in as far as he can go, moving his fingers to stretch the sides open. “Kenma.” The word is slurred, pulled from Kuroo somewhere deep inside him. “Am I ready yet?” He turns his body, looking down at Kenma with such desperation. Like Kenma is the only one who can save him from some terrible fate. “Please say I’m ready.” Kenma thinks there are tears stuck to Kuroo’s lashes.

Kenma nods. “Turn around. I want to watch you.” Kuroo does, and Kenma can see how hard he is, cock sitting heavy, head glistening wet. Kenma swallows at the sight. He takes a hand, strokes up and down Kuroo’s length with slow delicate strokes. He thinks Kuroo is prettiest when taken slowly, drawn out until he’s sobbing.

He tears the condom open, rolls it down on himself, adds more lube to his cock. He pushes two fingers back in Kuroo, who loudly whines. “ _Kenma, please_.” Kenma wonders if he keeps pushing him, if Kuroo will snap. If he’ll throw Kenma down and sit on his cock, fucking himself without discretion. Another time, Kenma thinks.

Kenma lines himself up, pushing into Kuroo’s slick and ready hole. They both groan out in response. Kuroo’s legs lay wide and open, spread for only him. Kenma fists Kuroo’s cock as he moves forward inch by inch. Keeping him hard, with rhythmic strokes, Kenma moves deeper and deeper until his balls are flush against Kuroo’s ass. Kenma leans forward, kissing Kuroo’s chest.

“You’re so tight, Tetsurou.” Kenma’s voice is breathy, pulled tight and reedy. “It’s so fucking _good_.” He waits there, bottomed out inside Kuroo until he feels Kuroo relax around him.

“Go,” Kuroo forces out. “Fuck me, Kenma.”

Kenma moves out of Kuroo slowly, sliding out almost the entire way before thrusting back in much harder. Kuroo is burning around him, squeezing Kenma’s cock like he is desperate not to let him go. Like Kuroo wants Kenma to stay inside him, keeping every inch of Kenma as his.

Kenma picks up his movement, increases his pace, pumping harder and faster into Kuroo’s waiting body. He loses control of his mouth, continually reassuring Kuroo of what he’d said earlier. “All yours, Tetsu. I’m all yours.”

Kuroo’s moving his body, fucking his hips back so he meets Kenma with more force. “Mine,” Kuroo growls the word. Kenma reaches between them, pumping Kuroo with rough and steady strokes. He wants it, wants Kuroo’s come on his hand, wants Kuroo’s body pulsing tight around him.

“Fuck. Tetsu.” Kenma’s other hand pushes on the back of Kuroo’s thigh, angling him so he can fuck against his spot. He drags his thumb through the sensitive slit and Kuroo comes, clamping down on him, softly whispering Kenma’s name.

Kenma closes his eyes. He lets go of Kuroo’s cock, using both hands to push his legs up and apart. His hips piston in and out chasing his own orgasm. His entire body feels taut with need, heat coiled low in his belly, as his hips stutter against Kuroo’s ass. Kenma comes inside him, leaving them both hazy and boneless.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Kuroo kisses Kenma’s forehead. “Morning, love,” he whispers. “Get up. I made breakfast.”

Kenma’s groggy with sleep, but agrees easily. He finds there is extra motivation to waking up today. He walks to the bathroom first, looks at his rumpled state in the mirror. There are red marks along his neck, his hair sits in disarray. He smiles as he pushes a finger softly against a bruise.

At the side of the mirror, Kenma notices a small note written on the back of a receipt. Kenma’s heart jumps, a laugh bubbling from his throat.

_I like you_

Is all it says. Kenma smiles. He wonders if this is how it starts in every universe and every timeline for them. He takes the paper and brings it to his dresser, lovingly placing it alongside his stolen memory from the glimpse.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

_[months later, at the charity auction]_

Kenma stands outside of the building, enjoying the cool air as he takes a break from the noise and number of people inside. There are still a couple more hours before the night is over. Just as he begins to shiver, he feels Kuroo’s arms wrap around him.

“Missed you in there.”

“I’ve been gone for five minutes.”

“Felt longer.” Kuroo’s voice is quiet in his ear. “Five minutes is much too long.”

“Sap.”

“Mm,” Kuroo hums. “Hey, Kenma?”

Kenma’s twisted his fingers with Kuroo’s. “Yes?”

“I know it’s only been a few months since we started dating, but I’m just wondering…” Kuroo rubs his cheek on Kenma’s hair – an action of comfort Kenma’s noticed he’s taken to. “If I asked you to move in with me…what would you think about that?”

“I think I would say yes.” Kenma turns around in Kuroo’s arms, looks up at him with awe and love, so much love.

Kuroo’s smile lights the space around them. “Yeah?”

Kenma laughs. He takes a deep breath, feels that mixture of excitement and fear swirl in his stomach. “I think…” _He knows._ “That there are a lot of questions…” He makes sure he keeps Kuroo’s eyes locked with his. “That if you asked me, I would say yes to.”

Kuroo’s face morphs into surprise. Kenma can feel the rapid rise and fall of Kuroo’s chest against his, as he realises what Kenma is implying. “You would?”

Kenma nods. “So, don’t take too long to ask.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!! Kudos & comments are very much appreciated :3
> 
> Find me on twitter at @crystalographic!


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